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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802659">More Than Familiar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AShortWalkToDelinquency/pseuds/AShortWalkToDelinquency'>AShortWalkToDelinquency</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Beach Holidays, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Vacation, romantic dinner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:35:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AShortWalkToDelinquency/pseuds/AShortWalkToDelinquency</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe we should take a vacation together." A soft smile spreads over Malcolm's face at the thought, even though he's not at all serious. It's a joke, calculated to lighten the melancholy mood that seems to be settling on Gil's shoulders at the admission. But instead of laughing it off, Gil's eyes turn thoughtful, his mouth pursing as he considers Malcolm's words.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/gifts">holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, Caitie, I'm a little late. But what's a month and a half between friends, right? Lol! Happy belated birthday!!!!!!! I hope you have the best year ever. You completely deserve it and I love you to pieces ❤❤❤</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Thank you to KateSamantha for not only making sure this got written, but for coming up with the best damn scene in this fic!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Gil, I already took a vacation this year," Malcolm says, eyes wide and pleading as he silently begs the man not to make him do this.</p><p>"Yeah, kid, I know," Gil chuckles, the corner of his eyes crinkling as a kind smile overtakes his face. He reaches across the sofa and clasps Malcolm's shoulder, just below the juncture of his neck, as he says, "You neglected to mention that you spent the entire time in your room when you told us about it."</p><p>Malcolm flushes as he realizes that Gil must've spoken with Jessica. She and Ainsley were the only ones he made that particular confession to, and, though Gil and Ainsley have always been civil, they've never been close. Which means that there's no way the information came from his sister.</p><p>He takes a moment to mentally brand his mother as a traitor before he looks over at Gil, looking at his ear, rather than making eye contact with him as he tries to justify his actions. "It was still a vacation. I mean, lots of people go on vacation and just sit on the beach and read all day. This was really no different."</p><p>The smile still hasn't faded from Gil's face as he looks at Malcolm, waiting for him to make eye contact, which he does, eventually. If somewhat reluctantly.</p><p>"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with relaxing with a good book, even if I have a feeling that your choice of reading materials was hardly what anyone would consider relaxing," Gil raises a knowing eyebrow and waits half a beat for Malcolm's confirmation.</p><p>He's...not wrong. </p><p>Malcolm's reading materials during his truncated holiday had been primarily psychology journals and research papers on new discoveries in forensic techniques, with some good old-fashion statistical studies on neurodevelopmental and psychosocial risk factors in serial killers thrown in for fun. </p><p>It had been fascinating, absolutely. But relaxing? Maybe not so much.</p><p>Malcolm just shrugs his agreement and Gil gives his shoulder one last squeeze before pulling his hand away and leaning forward to pick up his tumbler of scotch from the table in front of him. Malcolm mimics the movement and takes a sip from his own glass, the drink warming him nearly as much as the fact that Gil was choosing to share his time (and his good scotch) with Malcolm, even though Malcolm hadn't worked a case in the nearly two months since everything happened with Nicholas Endicott.</p><p>The whirlwind aspect of that situation had finally come to an end, and all that was left was to wait for Ainsley's trial. Thankfully, after posting a hefty bail, she was released under Jessica's recognizance, much to Ainsley's chagrin, and was comfortably situated at home. </p><p>Things were finally settling down, so Malcolm had come to the station that evening to talk to Gil about coming back to work. He was expecting an exasperated sigh and a reluctant agreement, not a demand that he take another vacation.</p><p>And yet, here they are.</p><p>"I can appreciate that you're worried about me," Malcolm says, pushing down, as always, the spark that flares to life inside of him every time that Gil expresses that he cares about him, "but I'm honestly fine."</p><p>Gil swirls the amber liquid in his glass, collecting his thoughts before he responds. "Bright, you've been working non-stop since you came back to New York, and I'd bet my pension that you hadn't taken a holiday — a <em>real</em> holiday — in all the years you were working with the FBI." </p><p>Malcolm tilts his head in reluctant agreement, both frustrated and pleased that Gil knows him so well.</p><p>"I just want you to take a break, kid. Get away from murderers and family obligations—"</p><p>"Those two seem to go hand-in-hand with the Whitlys," Malcolm says, attempting to distract Gil with some of his trademark dark humour.</p><p>Gil grimaces but continues on, "I think it's important for you to get a little bit of distance, Bright. And when you come back, if you still want to work cases with us, I'll be more than happy to bring you back on the team."</p><p>Malcolm's head shoots up from where he'd been staring into the depths of his glass. "Why would I not want to come back?"</p><p>Gil focuses on his own drink as he responds, clearly avoiding looking at Malcolm. "Look, when you came back after leaving the FBI—"</p><p>"After they fired me, you mean."</p><p>"—you hadn't even been back in town for 48 hours before I dragged you into the copycat case," Gil finishes, pointedly ignoring Malcolm's interjection. "If I hadn't pulled you into that, maybe you would have settled into a more typical life here. Something that didn't involve so many serial killers coming after you and your family."</p><p>A light bulb goes off for Malcolm as he watches Gil speak. The man feels guilty for dragging Malcolm into everything. For reconnecting him with his father, for putting Malcolm on John Watkins' radar, for bringing Nicholas Endicott into their crosshairs. </p><p>"Gil, I'm grateful that you found me that day," Malcolm says truthfully. He'd felt so lost, adrift without a compass, when he came back to New York. Gil's presence, waiting for him in front of the LeMans after his walk with Ainsley, was like a shining beacon to lead him home. He's not sure he'll ever be able to express how much that meant to him. "I honestly don't know how I would have survived the transition to living here again if it weren't for you."</p><p>It's a deeper conversation than either of them are used to having, and Malcolm is more than happy to lean back and focus on the subtle flavours of wood and fire and the slight burn down his throat as he swallows another mouthful of scotch. By the way Gil relaxes against the couch and brings the tumbler to his lips, he's sure the man feels the same way.</p><p>Malcolm wants to tell Gil that he has nothing to feel guilty for, that Malcolm owes him more than he can ever repay for everything Gil has done for him — since he got back to New York and in the two decades prior. But he's afraid that if he starts to open up, to tell the man everything he deserves to hear, that he won't be able to stop, and everything will come spilling out. So he reverts back to old habits and changes the subject instead.</p><p>"You know, I'm not the only one who's had a rough go of things lately," he says, eyes shifting pointedly to Gil's stomach where his knife wound is still healing. "And I know for a fact that you haven't taken a holiday since Jackie…" He trails off, thinking maybe he shouldn't have said anything, but Gil just huffs out a laugh.</p><p>"Yeah, I guess this is a bit of a pot/kettle situation, huh?"</p><p>Malcolm smiles as the tension in his shoulders seems to release, glad that he didn't just ruin a comfortable moment between them.</p><p>"Definitely. If anyone needs, and <em>deserves</em>, a vacation, it's you." Malcolm means it more than he can say. Gil works so hard, day in and day out, protecting the city and the team and Malcolm, and he never asks for a single thing in return. The man is selfless in a way that goes unnoticed by most of the world, working behind the scenes and never drawing attention to himself. But Malcolm notices everything, especially when it comes to Gil. </p><p>"You're not the only one telling me that," Gil admits, smiling sheepishly. "Dani and JT were furious that I came back so soon, and the Brass has been pressuring me to use some of my vacation days."</p><p>"You should, you know," Malcolm says earnestly, swiveling on the couch to bring one leg up on the cushion and angle himself towards Gil. "You weren't even fully healed when you came back to work. And I know," Malcolm forestalls the inevitable justification that he can see forming on Gil's lips, "that you've been on desk duty, but you should've taken more time off."</p><p>Gil chuckles into his glass before he throws back the last of his drink and drops the tumbler to the table with a heavy clunk. Malcolm follows suit, assuming Gil wants to get going and places his glass more gently on the table. He's getting ready to push himself to his feet when Gil surprises him by nestling back into the corner of the couch, clearly content to stay where he is.</p><p>Malcolm hesitantly leans back as well, propping his elbow on the back of the sofa and resting his head on his hand, looking Gil over as the man stares out the window. He hasn't yet gained back the natural glow he usually has; his skin still carries the ashen hue that the blood loss caused, and he hasn't quite regained the twinkle in his eye to which Malcolm has become so accustomed. Even still, Malcolm can't help but notice how beautiful he looks like this, laid back in his burnt orange sweater that seems so soft that Malcolm wants nothing more than to run his hands over the man's surprisingly defined chest.</p><p>"You're right," Gil says quietly, drawing a blush to Malcolm's face when he realizes where his mind has started to wander. He shuts down that line of thought, locking it behind the steel door in his mind where he hides all of the parts of himself with which he's unable or unwilling to deal. Thankfully, Gil is still staring straight ahead and Malcolm is able to compose himself while he speaks. "I probably did come back too soon. I'm just…" Gil pauses and shrugs halfheartedly, "honestly, I'm just not sure what to do with myself when I'm not here."</p><p>Malcolm completely understands. Without the work, he's nothing. But it kills him to think Gil might feel the same way. </p><p>"Maybe we should take a vacation together." A soft smile spreads over Malcolm's face at the thought, even though he's not at all serious. It's a joke, calculated to lighten the melancholy mood that seems to be settling on Gil's shoulders at the admission. But instead of laughing it off, Gil's eyes turn thoughtful, his mouth pursing as he considers Malcolm's words.</p><p>"You know, that's not the worst idea you've ever had," Gil says after a moment, finally turning his head to look at Malcolm, deep brown eyes finding Malcolm's with an intensity that Malcolm can't quite parse. "I could make sure that you don't just spend the whole time locked away in your room. Maybe even get you out in the sun. I don't think I've ever seen you with a tan." Gil's lips quirk up at the corners, but Malcolm can tell that, though the teasing is in good fun, the offer is serious. </p><p>Gil would be willing to go on vacation with him.</p><p>He's not sure what to say to that. What to <em>feel</em> about that. While he harbours no illusions that Gil feels anything but a paternal affection for him, he still can't quite wrap his mind around the man willingly offering to spend several days with him. </p><p>His stunned silence must last just a touch too long, and Gil's face drops as he says, "It's fine if you're not interested. I understand if—"</p><p>"No! No, that's not," Malcolm hurries to explain, "It's not. I mean. I'd love to, honestly." He tries to tamp down on his enthusiasm, but the pleasure that's building in his chest is reflected in the beaming smile that sweeps across his face, stretching even wider as his excitement is met with a twinkle in Gil's eye and a smile that may not be quite as wide, but is no less genuine.</p><p>"Anywhere specific you have in mind?" Gil asks, unconsciously dropping a hand to his stomach as he shifts forward to grab his phone off the table. Malcolm realizes just how serious Gil is as he watches him pull up a travel site, searching tropical vacation packages.</p><p>"Um. No, not really. How about you?" Malcolm asks, thinking that he'll gladly take him anywhere in the world if Gil will let him. For everything the man has done for him throughout his life, he'd be willing to buy him a goddamn island, if that's what he wanted.</p><p>"Hmm," Gil says, scrolling through the last minute deals, "there's some all-inclusive deals here for Mexico, Jamaica, Dominican Republic…"</p><p>They spend the better part of the next two hours looking up destinations and resorts, Malcolm deferring to Gil in almost everything, happy to see him excited about the prospect of taking a break. By the time they leave Gil's office, they have two tickets booked for an all-inclusive resort on the Mayan Riviera.</p><p>(Malcolm had offered to pay for something more private, more exclusive, but Gil just raised an eyebrow and threw him a look that let him know it was a losing battle and he might as well surrender before anyone got hurt. </p><p>However, if he happened to make a call and upgrade their package on his cab ride home, that was between him and the very pleasant booking agent.)</p><p>It's not until he's strapping himself into bed that night that he realizes he's just agreed to spend five whole days, alone, with the man he's been secretly in love with for years. He drops his head back against the pillow with a sigh, slipping into a restless sleep with questions of whether or not this is the worst decision he's ever made following him into his dreams.</p><p>Four days later, with suitcases in hand, they stand in the grand lobby of an immaculate and stunning resort, ready to begin their holiday. Check in is smooth and within minutes an eager young man is showing them to their room, a two bedroom suite with a scenic ocean view that impresses even Malcolm. But when he turns to ask Gil what he thinks, and sees the look of awe on his face as he takes in the view, he thinks to himself that the ocean is nothing compared to the beauty of the man beside him.</p><p>Malcolm leaves Gil standing on the balcony and pops back in to thank and tip their busboy, taking the opportunity to kick off his shoes and shed his suit jacket before going back out to join Gil. He's still in the exact same place he'd left him, elbows resting on the ledge of the balcony as he takes in the view that almost spans a full 180°.</p><p>"Pretty sure this isn't what I booked," Gil says, voice carrying quietly over the crashing of the waves below. He doesn't sound upset, though, so Malcolm just smiles and shrugs impishly, turning his attention back to the ocean, studiously ignoring the way his heart flutters as, from the corner of his eye, he sees the small smile that graces Gil's face.</p><p>"Okay kid," Gil says after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "what say we go try the whole 'relaxing on the beach' thing that everyone keeps talking about?"</p><p>"Sounds great." Malcolm follows Gil back inside and each of them takes their suitcase from the entranceway, heading to their separate rooms to change for the beach.</p><p>Gil gestures for Malcolm to choose a room, and Malcolm takes the one to the left, knowing the bedrooms are identical, with one on either side of the large sitting room in the center. The king size bed is the clear focal point, with a beautiful wooden headboard that spans the length of the wall up to the elevated ceiling. He drops his suitcase on the bench at the foot of his bed and takes in the rest of the room.</p><p>A sitting area to his right — consisting of a loveseat on one side of a teak coffee table, flanked by two accent chairs on the other side — leads to the same balcony that they'd been standing on only moments ago, bridging their entire suite.</p><p>The other end of the bedroom offers a well appointed ensuite, almost entirely open to the room, with a large soaker tub, an enormous walk in shower, and double vanity that even Jessica would love. The toilet is the only part of the bathroom that's tucked away, while the rest of the room receives ample light and takes in the beautiful view. He sets his toiletry bag on the counter and heads back to the bedroom, taking a few moments to unpack his bag, hanging some of the items in the spacious wardrobe beside the door and laying the rest in the top two drawers of the dresser.</p><p>It doesn't take long for him to change from his suit into a pair of swim trunks and a sleeveless shirt, sliding into the only pair of flip flops he owns before heading back to the common living area between their bedrooms.</p><p>The rustling sounds coming from Gil's room tells Malcolm that Gil is still getting ready, and he can't keep his eyes from wandering to his door, which is only partially closed. From where he's standing, he can see Gil's reflection in the massive mirror above the vanity, already in swim trunks but standing shirtless and looking down at the scar across his stomach with a crease between his eyebrows that Malcolm wants to go in and kiss away. He watches as Gil prods the skin around the scar, looking both resigned and disappointed, eventually dropping his hand and turning to grab a t-shirt from off the shelf next to the vanity.</p><p>Malcolm hustles away from where he'd been standing, flopping onto the sofa just as Gil enters the room, and the smile on his face would have looked perfectly natural to Malcolm if he hadn't just witnessed the heartbreaking frown only seconds ago.</p><p>"Ready?" Gil asks, paperback in one hand and sunglasses in the other.</p><p>It takes Malcolm a second to form any words. He hasn't seen Gil in swim trunks since the last time they went on holidays together, back when Malcolm was a sophomore in high school and he joined Gil and Jackie on a trip to California. Back then, Gil had no compunctions about going shirtless, his body toned and tanned and, as far as Malcolm was concerned, the epitome of perfection. But even now, in his trunks and a fitted tee, Malcolm can make out the definition of his muscles beneath the fabric — pecs, abs and muscular thighs all capturing his attention as he walks towards Malcolm.</p><p>"Uh. Yeah. Of course," he finally stammers in response, feeling his cheeks heat at his less-than-subtle admiration of Gil's body. He pushes to his feet and skirts past Gil, face down to hide his blush, stopping only to grab his own sunglasses and a couple of recent psychology and forensic journals that he's been meaning to catch up on.</p><p>"Nope," Gil stops him with a soft hand on his forearm, pushing down to encourage him to drop the journals back on the table. "Remember when we talked about you actually relaxing?"</p><p>Malcolm looks up, wide-eyed with surprise that Gil was serious about that. "I didn't actually bring much else," he admits sheepishly. Everything he brought with him is in the same vein as the journals he was planning on taking with him just now.</p><p>Gil's fond smile warms him even more than the hand that is still lightly gripping his forearm as he says, "Guess you're just going to have to read one of mine."</p><p>He's sure it's his imagination, but it feels like Gil's touch lingers a little longer than is strictly necessary, sparks of electricity bouncing between them where skin meets skin. But before he can really put much thought in it, Gil has turned back to his room and Malcolm takes the moment of separation to give his head a shake and remind himself that Gil doesn't feel like <em>that</em> about him, and he'd do well to remember that before he completely embarrasses himself or endangers the relationship that he already has with the man.</p><p>The thought of losing what he has with Gil is like a splash of icy cold water and pulls him roughly from his musings. By the time Gil comes back — holding up copies of Rainbow Six and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy with an eyebrow raised in question — Malcolm has locked up his feelings once again, focusing instead on the beach vacation in front of him. He doesn't honestly pay much attention as he chooses Rainbow Six, slipping his sunglasses on as Gil tosses the other book on the table next to the sofa. </p><p>In a matter of minutes, they're on the beach, searching for the perfect spot to spend their afternoon; somewhere with enough shade that Malcolm, with his fair complexion, won't burn, but with enough sun that Gil can bask in the sun that he usually misses out on, blocked by the skyscrapers that line Manhattan. With the upgrade that Malcolm purchased, they have access to an exclusive section of the beach that's, fortunately, far less crowded, and they're easily able to find a palapa that meets their needs.</p><p>While the rest of the resort has plastic chairs with an industrial canvas stretched over, the upgraded section features wood lounging chairs with thick, cream coloured cushions that Malcolm soon finds himself sinking into with a satisfied sigh. Gil takes a moment longer to get situated, dragging the chair out of the shade and into the sun, at a right angle to Malcolm's own chair.</p><p>Gil hesitates before sitting, clearly debating on removing his shirt, and despite Malcolm's resolve to hide away his attraction, there's a riot of flutters low in his stomach as he waits for Gil to decide. Malcolm can pinpoint the exact moment Gil decides against it, his hand twitching towards the stab wound that's hidden beneath the worn fabric of his shirt.</p><p>It surprises Malcolm, just a little. Gil's never been vain, so he knows it's not about the scar marring his otherwise flawless physique. But he can't quite place his finger on what the problem actually is.</p><p>"Oh, that's nice," Gil says as he sinks into the chair, and Malcolm's attention is immediately pulled from profiling him to watching him as he melts into the cloud-like cushions. </p><p>Gil is beautiful like this, Malcolm thinks to himself, relaxed in a way he hardly ever seems back home. Like he's finally able to let his guard down, when he's usually living life on high alert. Malcolm knows exactly what kind of a toll that kind of hyper-vigilance takes on the body and is more pleased than ever about this impromptu holiday if it means Gil is going to relax, even if it's just for a handful of days.</p><p>They lean back and soak up the beauty around them, comfortably silent in the heat that wraps around them like a blanket. The area they're in is fairly quiet to start with, but the crashing waves drown out any ambient noise and leaves them feeling like the only people around for miles. Gil lays his head back and closes his eyes, soaking up the sun's rays with a smile on his face, tossing one arm back and over the top of the chair, looking perfectly at home in the idyllic surroundings.</p><p>It's perfect.</p><p>Malcolm watches him openly for several minutes before he realizes he's setting himself up for embarrassment if Gil happens to notice. So he grabs the book that Gil so helpfully provided and flips to page one, not even bothering with reading the description on the back of the book. If it's good enough for Gil, it's good enough for him.</p><p>At first, he can't keep his eyes from wandering over the top of the book to take in Gil's form, but it's not long before he's sucked into the world of counter-terrorism and finds himself completely absorbed in the story. He doesn't even know how long it's been before Gil's words pull his attention from the book.</p><p>"Enjoying the read?" he asks as he drags the chair back into the shade of the palapa, though the smirk on his face says he doesn't even need an answer. "You know, I brought that one with me the last time we went on holidays together. Not that you let me get very far in it."</p><p>And suddenly Malcolm has a clear vision of Gil laying back on their oversized beach blanket, Rainbow Six held up over his face as Jackie laid beside him, bronze skin glistening from the suntan lotion she'd coated herself in. Malcolm had been full of a restless energy back then that made it almost impossible for him to sit still. He was constantly pulling them both into lengthy conversations about anything and everything, or physically pulling Gil to the ocean with him, wanting someone to race in the water. Gil's booming laugh as the waves overtook Malcolm's scrawny form hit Malcolm in ways that it never had before, and it was the first time he'd looked at Gil as something other than a friend and protector. It was the start of a crush that, all these years later, he still hasn't been able to shake.</p><p>"I didn't give you much of a chance to read on that trip, did I?" Malcolm grimaces apologetically, wondering if Gil and Jackie regretted bringing him along on their well deserved holiday. </p><p>"Wouldn't change it for the world, kid," Gil chuckles as he sits back down and pulls out his own book. "That was the best vacation I ever had and spending all that time with you was a good part of the reason why. The book was waiting for me when we got back, but seeing you lighthearted and carefree for a change, that was worth more than some extra time reading."</p><p>Gil cracks his book, already about halfway through, completely unaware of how his words fill Malcolm with so much love that it physically hurts, tugging at his chest in a way that, even with all his practice, he can't seem to ignore.</p><p>"I'm, uh. I'm gonna go grab some drinks," he mumbles as he pushes to his feet, needing a little space if he's going to reel himself in. "Beer?"</p><p>He feels Gil's gaze on him as he slips his flip flops back on and ducks out from beneath the palapa, hovering just at the edge until Gil says, "Beer sounds great."</p><p>Malcolm takes his time wandering to the bar, hands slung in the pockets of his trunks, the salty smell of the ocean following him even as he trails away from the beach. He walks the winding paths, forgoing the beach bar for one further into the resort, allowing himself some time to clear his head. To rein in his heart.</p><p>He's starting to think this vacation may not have been the best choice. It's one thing to spend day after day with Gil at work, when there's a case for him to focus on to keep him from getting lost in his feelings for the man, but out here when it's just the two of them with nothing more distracting than a paperback, it's going to be difficult to hide how he feels.</p><p>It was simple when he was with the FBI and only saw Gil a handful of times a year. Most of their interactions back then had been via phone, and it was easy enough to keep things casual when he didn't have to actually see him. And besides, when Jackie was still alive, he loved her so much that his feelings for Gil never quite bubbled over like they do now.</p><p>Ever since he came back to New York, since Gil came and found him and invited him onto the team and back into his everyday life, his feelings have taken on the sharper edges of love and, frankly, he's not handling it terribly well.</p><p>It doesn't help that Gil's always been a tactile person. And while Malcolm has always enjoyed the feel of his warm hand on the back of his neck and the friendly pats on the shoulder, lately Gil's touch is sparking more lust than comfort. Every day is a struggle to not lean into the touches, to ask for more.</p><p>Lost in thought, Malcolm is surprised to find himself at a poolside bar, and wanders up to order a couple of beers. He realizes his mistake as he's wandering back to the beach on palm tree-lined paths, the hot sun beating down on him and warming the drinks. The beach bar probably would have been a better idea for keeping their drinks cold, but the walk serves its purpose and by the time he gets back, Gil is firmly cemented in his mind as a friend and nothing more.</p><p>"Hey, kid," Gil smiles, looking up from his book, "thought you might've gotten lost."</p><p>Malcolm grins as he hands over Gil's beer and settles back on his lounger with his own. "Sorry, decided to check out the resort a little. The beer might be a little warm, but I can go grab you a cold one if you want?"</p><p>Gil takes mouthful of the brew and lets out an appreciative hum, "This is just fine, Bright. Thank you."</p><p>They spend the better part of the afternoon lounging on the beach, content to spend their first day doing practically nothing. Malcolm gets sucked into his book surprisingly quickly and doesn't even notice the passing of the time until he looks over and finds Gil asleep on his chair, book cracked open on his chest and mouth ever so slightly agape. </p><p>A small smile pulls at Malcolm's lips, glad that Gil is finally getting the rest he so desperately needs. While Malcolm understands the instinct to dive into work when life becomes too difficult to process, he found it difficult to watch Gil throw himself back in the job so soon after getting released from the hospital. He could tell — they could all tell — that Gil wasn't ready to be back, but, stubborn as always, he couldn't be dissuaded. Malcolm actually debated on sending a thank you card to the Brass when he heard that they'd mandated his return as desk duty only, with no field work for at least 30 days, at which time he would be subjected to a physical and mental evaluation to determine whether or not he was fit for return to active duty.</p><p>Gil was...not pleased, to say the least.</p><p>But Malcolm knew that JT and Dani felt the same way about Gil's return that Malcolm himself did. Though they were happy to have their leader back, they thought it was too soon, and that Gil should have been taking advantage of his leave time to heal and rest.</p><p>So seeing Gil napping now, giving his body and mind a break from the everyday grind back home, pleases Malcolm to no end. He closes his own book and places it quietly on the small table between them, leaning back to enjoy the waves crashing on the beach just ahead of them.</p><p>And if his gaze occasionally wanders over to the man sleeping beside him, he decides it's really nobody's business but his own.</p><p>Maybe a half hour later, Malcolm is watching a couple of kids — a young brother and sister, if he had to guess — building sand castles not far from where he's sitting, when he hears a quiet but anguished groan come from the chair next to his. Malcolm is on his feet before he even realizes what's happening and looks down to see Gil's eyebrows drawn in, his face lined in pain, as his head  jerks to the side. Realizing it's just a nightmare does little to calm Malcolm's unease, and as Gil groans again, Malcolm drops down to the side of Gil's lounge chair and gently sets his hand on Gil's arm.</p><p>"Gil?" His voice cracks as he calls out and he tries once again, a little steadier this time. "Gil?"</p><p>Gil's eyes shoot open as he darts up in his lounger, nearly slamming into Malcolm, who'd been leaning into him. The way his hand jerks to his stomach tells Malcolm that either he hurt himself with the sudden movement or he was dreaming about getting stabbed. If Malcolm was a betting man, he'd wager on both.</p><p>It takes a few seconds for Gil's breathing to slow from the quick pant that it fell into as he woke, and for his rigid muscles to begin to relax. Malcolm keeps his hand on Gil's arm and waits quietly, having first hand experience as to how jolting it can feel to wake from a nightmare.</p><p>Gil scrubs a hand over his face and averts his eyes, clearly embarrassed as he whispers, "Sorry."</p><p>It's like his heart is being crushed as he sees Gil's distress, and he wants nothing more than to just make it better, to ease the fear and the pain for Gil, like Gil did for him all those years ago.</p><p>"It's fine, Gil," Malcolm says honestly, but Gil is already swinging his legs off the side of the chair, away from Malcolm, slipping on his sandals and leaning over to pick up the book that had fallen to the sand. </p><p>Malcolm's hand falls uselessly to the lounger as Gil moves away, and it tugs painfully at his heart to feel like Gil is pushing him away when all he wants to do is help.</p><p>"I'm gonna head back to the room and get ready for dinner," Gil says, not even pretending to look back at Malcolm as he speaks. He doesn't wait for a response, just pushes to his feet and ducks under the edge of the palapa, heading back towards the rooms with his head hung low.</p><p>With a heavy sigh, Malcolm flops down on Gil's chair, determined to give the man a little space before he heads back to the room himself. He finally understands how helpless Gil and Jackie, and even Jessica, must've felt when he would wake up screaming as a child, and then deny any comfort they tried to provide, too embarrassed to accept their compassion.</p><p>He knows Gil's going to be locked away in his suite for a while, but he still waits about 15 minutes before he follows his path back to their room. He's proven right as he walks in and finds the door to Gil's room closed, the sound of water rushing through the pipes telling Malcolm that he's in the shower.</p><p>Usually the thought of Gil naked and soaped up has a distinctly erotic feel to it, but right now, Malcolm is just hoping the man is alright, hoping the water is helping to wash away the last vestiges of the nightmare.</p><p>He decides he might as well get himself ready for dinner as well, and stops in the seating area to call for a reservation at the steak house restaurant. There's a 7:00 seating available and he knows that Gil would appreciate a nice steak, so he books them in and shoots Gil a text to let him know before heading to his own room to get ready. </p><p>A quick, cool shower leaves him feeling refreshed, and since he's decided not to shave while they're on holidays, it doesn't take him long before he's ready to go, hair styled with a little less precision than he usually employs, giving him a slightly more casual edge than he's used to. He brought a number of lightweight suits with him and chooses a light blue pants and jacket combination, with a crisp white shirt and a light grey pair of loafers, forgoing socks for both comfort and style. He gives himself a once over at the full length mirror on the wall of the bathroom and thinks he doesn't look half bad.</p><p>And he's certainly <em>not</em> dressing up for Gil. That would be an exercise in futility.</p><p>But if he spends a few extra minutes tucking his shirt in just so, and messing about with his hair, no one is around to witness it, so it doesn't really count.</p><p>When he's finally dressed and ready, he heads to the main room and makes himself comfortable on the sofa with one of his psychology journals. He's absorbed in an article on Emerging Approaches to the Conceptualization and Treatment of Personality Disorder when Gil's door finally opens and he steps into the room.</p><p>He's dressed down, as well, in a pair of tan slacks and a dark blue button down, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top few buttons undone at the collar. It's such a change from his usual turtleneck, that Malcolm has a hard time tearing his eyes away.</p><p>Gil's eyes are on his phone as he comes into the room, looking up and zeroing right in on Malcolm. His smile is tentative but genuine as he says, "Steakhouse, hmm?"</p><p>So they're going to ignore the whole nightmare incident, then, Malcolm thinks to himself. And that's fine. For now.</p><p>It's something that he's going to have to talk with him about at some point, though. Now that he knows that Gil is having nightmares — and he's kicking himself for not having figured that out sooner, given the dark smudges under his eyes and sickly pallor to his skin that really should have faded by now — he wants to help him work through his feelings and process the trauma, since it's obviously weighing on him.</p><p>"Hope you don't mind," Malcolm says, dog-earring the page he's on and setting it on the table for later. "New shoes?" he adds as he gets to his feet and makes his way over to Gil, looking down at the chocolate brown boating shoes that Gil's wearing.</p><p>Gil chuckles lightly, the small amount of tension he'd been carrying draining from his shoulders at Malcolm's acceptance of the plan to pretend nothing happened. "Yeah, I figured my dress shoes weren't going to cut it. And steak sounds great."</p><p>Malcolm checks his watch and notices that they still have a fair amount of time until their reservation. "We've still got over an hour to kill. Can I tempt you with a drink at the bar?"</p><p>"Sounds great, kid."</p><p>When Gil tosses his arm around Malcolm's shoulder, leading him towards the door of the room, Malcolm gently reminds himself that this is two friends going out for dinner. Not a date. Definitely not a date.</p><p>The lobby bar is busy, but it still only takes a few minutes to get their drinks. One of the perks of the upgraded package that Malcolm paid for is top shelf liquors, and soon they're seated at one of the many tables littered throughout the vast space, the flicker of a flameless candle in the votive on the table between them. Light piano music floats through the air from the baby grand in the center of the room, the lilting notes of Can't Help Falling In Love washing over them as they sip their scotches in companionable silence.</p><p>Not a date, he reminds himself again.</p><p>They end up discussing their plans for the next few days — which mostly consist of laying on the beach and possibly trying out some of the water activities such as kayaking and windsurfing — the plots of their respective novels, the beauty of the resort, anything but life back home.</p><p>They're three scotches in apiece by the time their dinner reservation approaches, and Gil once again looks as relaxed as he had earlier in the day. Malcolm, however, realizes that he'd do well to cut himself off when he catches himself staring at Gil's mouth as he brings the tumbler to his lips. A light sheen is left behind on Gil's upper lip as he lowers the glass, his tongue darting out to swipe the liquid away, and Malcolm has to force himself to look away before he does something stupid like lean in to lick Gil's lips clean of the liquor himself.</p><p>Instead, he looks down at his wrist and croaks, "We should head to the restaurant."</p><p>Gil takes a moment to respond, and Malcolm can feel his gaze on him, tingling over his skin like a crackle of electricity. "Sure thing, city boy. Prime Rib awaits."</p><p>The restaurant is down near the beach, and they're offered the choice of eating inside or out on the large deck area that overlooks the water. It's not even a question, according to Gil, and they're shown to a table for two at the edge of the deck, left with a one page menu showing them their options for appetizers, main courses and desserts, and a promise that the server would be with them soon.</p><p>"Any idea what you're getting?" Gil asks, looking down over the menu.</p><p>It's the first time Malcolm's really considering the fact that he's going to have to order something as well, and he's rethinking if this was really such a good idea. He has trouble with food at the best of times, and a heavy meal like steak is probably out of the question, unless he wants to spend the better part of the night curled up over his toilet.</p><p>Fortunately, Gil seemed to understand his predicament almost immediately and casually says, "There are a few soup and salad options that sound pretty tasty."</p><p>Malcolm breathes out a quiet sigh and looks down at the menu, thankful to see that Gil is correct. The appetizer section features a number of soups and a chef's salad option that he'll hopefully be able to stomach, and he smiles up at the man who's been looking out for him for over two decades.</p><p>He doesn't get a chance to answer before a waiter comes over to take their order.</p><p>"Hello!" The waiter says with an enthusiasm that makes Malcolm grin in response. "My name is Juan and I will be your waiter tonight. How are you enjoying your stay with us?"</p><p>"We just arrived this afternoon," Gil says, placing the menu down on the table and looking up at their waiter, "but the resort is beautiful."</p><p>"Oh, you are in for a treat, my friend," Juan says, warm eyes sparkling with excitement. "This resort is the finest in the Mayan Riviera, and I'm sure you will love it." He leans in conspiratorially as he adds, "And if I can make a recommendation, the surf and turf couple's dinner on the beach is a one of a kind experience."</p><p>"Oh, we're not…" Malcolm starts and abruptly trails off, eyes falling down to the menu as his thumb runs over the edges of the leather backing.</p><p>"We're not a couple," Gil finishes for him.</p><p>The ease with which he says it stings a little, even if Malcolm knows he's just telling the truth, and he suddenly remembers why he kept reminding himself that this is not a date. </p><p>"My apologies, you just looked, well, nevermind that," Juan says, stumbling over his words. "Let's get your order."</p><p>They spend a very awkward minute or two ordering their food — a ribeye for Gil with a salad starter, and a soup starter for Malcolm with a salad for his main course — all three men avoiding eye contact with one another. When Juan finally walks away with the menus and Gil and Malcolm are left alone at the table, Malcolm finally dares a glance up.</p><p>Gil is looking out at the beach once again, watching as it fades from view as the sun sets on the other side of the sky, an inky blackness slowly descending on the scene. He looks troubled, and Malcolm can't help but wonder if he's upset about someone assuming they're a couple. His heart twinges at the thought, but it serves as confirmation that nothing will ever happen between them and that he'd do well to finally try to shake himself of these feelings that can never be returned.</p><p>"So,” Gil says after a few tense minutes have passed. "Maybe tomorrow we could try the Japanese restaurant? Lighter fare that you might have an easier time with?"</p><p>Apparently the theme of the trip is 'pretend it never happened,' and Malcolm is more than happy to play along this time, taking a fortifying breath and looking up with a smile. "Yeah, sounds great."</p><p>Things slowly drift back to normal after that, and by the time they're working on their appetizers — which are dropped off by another waiter — conversation is flowing regularly once again. Even still, there's a knot in Malcolm's stomach that just won't untangle, and it makes it hard for him to choke down the soup. He only manages a few spoonfuls and can't help but notice Gil's concerned look, feeling incredibly grateful that he decides not to comment.</p><p>The space between appetizers and their main course is filled with reminiscing, talking about the last trip they took together and how much Jackie would have enjoyed this resort. It eases things between them even more, their shared love for the woman bringing a smile to both of their faces. When Juan comes to serve their main course, it's like the whole embarrassing incident never happened.</p><p>"Bon appetit," Juan says with a terrible French accent, but an enthusiasm that makes all three of them grin.</p><p>They're a few bites into their dinner when Gil casually says, "You know, I think you've got an admirer here," as he cuts into his steak.</p><p>Malcolm's heart stutters in his chest and he coughs lightly to dislodge the lettuce that gets stuck in his throat at the pronouncement. "What?"</p><p>"The table at my three," Gil ticks his head in the direction of a table not far from them, three men and one woman, all around Malcolm's age if not a little older, already on the dessert course of the menu. "The guy in the grey shirt has been checking you out since we got here."</p><p>Malcolm surreptitiously glances to the table, and sure enough, a clean cut guy, maybe in his mid to late thirties, meets his eye and smiles in a way that says he's definitely interested. Malcolm offers a small smile in return that he hopes conveys his disinterest without seeming rude, and then drops his gaze to his hands, twisting his fork nervously between his fingers. </p><p>"He's cute," Gil says quietly and Malcolm's eyes dart up in surprise. "I'm just saying, we have separate rooms, if you decide to have company, I'll stay out of your way."</p><p>Malcolm must stare at him vacantly for longer than he realizes, because Gil awkwardly pushes on, looking like he doesn't want to be having this conversation either but needing to finish what he started. </p><p>"Kid, you're young and good looking, you should be out having a good time, not stuck with an old man like me for your entire trip." Gil eventually turns his attention to cutting his steak, avoiding Malcolm's eyes as he says, "What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico, right?"</p><p>What little food Malcolm has managed to eat turns to lead in his stomach as he realizes that Gil is trying to push him away, and he wonders if Juan's assumption that Gil and Malcolm were a couple bothered Gil more than he was letting on. Maybe this is his way of putting some space between them so no one else makes the same mistake.</p><p>"Right," Malcolm says, laying his fork down next to his plate of almost untouched salad. He pats his napkin to his lips and gets to his feet, forcing out an excuse as he says, "just need to run to the washroom. I'll be right back."</p><p>He walks calmly to the washroom on the other side of the restaurant, his composed stride completely at odds with the hammering of his heart. It seems to be vacant, thankfully, so he walks directly to one of the sinks and flicks the faucet on, bending down to splash some cool water on his face. </p><p>It doesn't do anything to release the pressure that's building in his chest, but it does help the tingle that was building at the back of his eyes to abate. He turns the water off and scrubs his hands down his face, shaking off the worst of the droplets before reaching for the paper towels and patting his face dry.</p><p>He hates himself for feeling like this. Gil has never, not once, expressed a romantic interest in him, so it really shouldn't come as a surprise for him to steer Malcolm towards someone else. But logic has no say where the heart is concerned and, even though it shouldn't, it <em>hurts</em>.</p><p>When the door opens behind him, Malcolm jerks upright from where he'd been leaning on the ledge of the sink, spinning around to find Mr. Grey Shirt casually walking over to him.</p><p>"Hey," Malcolm forces a smile to his face.</p><p>"Hi," the guy quietly responds, standing respectfully back from Malcolm, purposefully making sure not to crowd him. Gil's not wrong, he <em>is</em> cute — tall, dark and handsome, with broad shoulders and muscular arms — and if Malcolm had eyes for anyone but Gil, he might even consider indulging in a tropical fling with him. But the thought of taking someone back to his room, of letting another man fuck him when his thoughts would surely be with Gil where he'd be laying only two rooms away, is something he can't quite stomach. "I'm Eric."</p><p>"Malcolm," he reaches out to shake Eric's outstretched hand.</p><p>"Look, I get the feeling you're not interested," Eric says, cutting straight to the chase, "but my friends thought I should ask, anyways, just in case."</p><p>"Uh, I'm flattered, really, but—" </p><p>"—but you have a thing for the man you're having dinner with." Eric smiles as he finishes the sentence for him.</p><p>"What? No. No, that's not..." Malcolm trails off at Eric's knowing look.</p><p>"Yeah, I overheard the waiter mistake you for a couple and saw the look on your face," Eric says with a sympathetic grimace.</p><p>Well that's embarrassing, Malcolm thinks to himself. If a complete stranger at another table was able to pinpoint how he's feeling about Gil, then he's going to need to work on hiding his feelings a hell of a lot better.</p><p>"Well, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?" Eric jokes, but there's no pressure behind it. "I'm just offering a fun night, no strings. If you decide you're interested, I'm in suite 309."</p><p>Malcolm nods, but he doesn't think he'll be able to accept the offer. As much as a quick and dirty fuck would help to clear away the pesky emotions that have been eating at him all day, he's just not ready for that.</p><p>So he bids Eric goodnight and leaves the bathroom, a renewed resolve to move past his feelings for Gil allowing him to hold his shoulders back and his head high as he settles back in his chair, even managing a few additional bites of salad as Gil finishes his steak.</p><p>"I noticed you had some company in the bathroom," Gil says quietly, eyes darting over to the table beside them where the group of diners are getting to their feet, tucking in their chairs as they prepare to leave. Malcom's eyes drift over to find Eric smiling softly at him, giving a small nod before he turns and joins his friends as they exit the restaurant.</p><p>Malcolm flushes and ducks his head down, saying, "His name's Eric. I, uh, I told him I wasn't interested." He holds his breath, hoping Gil just drops the subject, but his luck, as always, veers towards 'bad'.</p><p>"That's a shame. It might do you some good to get back into the dating game, kid," Gil says. His voice comes out slightly strained, but without looking up, Malcolm can't work out exactly why, and he's not willing to meet the man's eyes just yet.</p><p>He knows it's not an outright rejection, but it doesn't stop it from stinging. He slowly chews the bite of greens in his mouth, though it tastes like ash on his tongue, and swallows hard once he figures his voice won't betray his hurt feelings. "It's been a pretty intense year. The last person I dated turned out to be lying to me about her motives. Motives, which, led to her eventual murder. You'll forgive me if I'm not quite ready to put myself out there just yet."</p><p>It comes out a little sharper than he intends, but there's nothing he can do to take it back now. He glances up through his lashes to find Gil scowling at his plate like it personally offended him, though, once again, Malcolm can't quite figure out why, and the remainder of their meal is spent in a tense silence.</p><p>They both decide against dessert — Gil insisting he's too full to fit another bite of anything in his stomach, and Malcolm knowing that something as rich as the tiramisu on offer would never sit well — and soon they're leaving the restaurant, meandering along the pathways away from the ocean.</p><p>"Would you like to get an after dinner drink?" Gil asks as they approach a fork in the pathway. Heading left would take them back to the lobby bar, where they can settle back with a scotch and some light music, whereas heading right would take them back to the complex where their room is. It's not even 9:00, but Malcolm is emotionally exhausted and needs some time to figure out how to navigate this relationship.</p><p>"Actually, I think I'm going to turn in for the night," Malcolm says, looking anywhere but at Gil. "Go ahead without me, have a good time."</p><p>Gil looks at him, concern evident in the lines etched on this face, "You sure, kid? You feeling alright?"</p><p>"Yeah, I'm fine," Malcolm says, turning right and leaving Gil at the junction of the walking path. He calls over his shoulder as he goes, "If you bring someone back to the room, I'll stay out of your way." It's meant to be a joke but the thought that Gil might actually pick someone up sits heavier in his stomach than the food he just barely managed to choke down. </p><p>He gets back to the suite in good time, grabbing his book and heading directly for his room, closing the door tightly behind him. If Gil really does bring someone with him, he sure as hell doesn't need to witness it. He opens the balcony doors as wide as they go, letting the soothing sounds of crashing waves float into the room, thankful to not be left in the smothering silence of the empty suite.</p><p>After a fair bit of pacing, he settles on the sofa with his book, forcing himself to focus on the words until finally he gets absorbed in the story and stops thinking about everything else. He's well into his novel when he hears the sound of the door to the suite opening and closing, and he finds himself holding his breath, listening intently for any signs of conversation. </p><p>He doesn't hear anything but the sound of the door to Gil's room closing, followed by the slide of his balcony door opening to the night. He tries to ignore just how relieved he feels when he doesn't hear anyone else with Gil, scrubbing a hand over his face and dropping the book to the coffee table.</p><p>A quick look at his watch tells him it's just past 11 and he leans back against the sofa, wondering just what the hell he's going to do with himself for the next eight hours or so. He can already tell that sleep is going to elude him tonight. </p><p>Fortunately, after a quick change into a light pair of joggers and a t-shirt, and a small amount of furniture rearrangement, he's got a suitable space for a yoga practice, and he pulls up a yoga app on his phone to guide him through a session. His first attempt is mediocre at best, mind wandering to thoughts of Gil on a regular basis. His second practice is much more of a success, and he finds himself feeling centered and calm, body and mind in complete harmony. </p><p>Until Gil's shout rips through the night.</p><p>Malcolm is on the balcony outside of Gil's bedroom in the span of a breath, sparing no time to check for danger as he rushes into Gil's room.</p><p>He finds Gil in bed, writhing and tangled in his bedsheets, breath coming in harsh pants as he fights off the nightmare that's sunk its talons into him. </p><p>"Gil," Malcolm says quietly, inching towards the bed cautiously, fully aware of just how volatile waking from a nightmare can be. Gil jerks beneath his touch as he lays a hand on the man's bare chest, but Malcolm keeps a firm hold as he says a little louder, "Gil, it's just a dream."</p><p>Gil's eyes snap open, his muscles tensing beneath Malcolm's palm as he freezes in terror. It's not until the fear fades from Gil's eyes and his body begins to uncoil that Malcolm blows out the breath that was trapped in his chest. </p><p>"You okay?" Malcolm asks as Gil pushes himself up so that he's seated against the headboard. Gil seems slightly dazed, still pulling himself from the depths of his nightmare, but he nods anyway.</p><p>"I'm good, Bright," Gil says after a moment, "I didn't mean to wake you."</p><p>"It's fine, I wasn't sleeping anyways," Malcolm says truthfully, and for once he's grateful for Gil's stern look of disapproval. It makes him look more like himself. Less haunted. "Can I get you anything?"</p><p>"No," Gil says, tugging the sheet up to cover the scar on his stomach, expression shuttering and turning cold in a way that Malcolm's not sure he's ever seen from Gil before. "It's fine. Go back to bed." </p><p>As a dismissal, it couldn't really get much clearer, but Malcolm doesn't move, confused by his sudden icy demeanor. Malcolm rakes his eyes over Gil's face, trying to work out exactly what's going on in his head when Gil's voice cuts through his search for answers.</p><p>"Bright," Gil says tersely, "Leave."</p><p>It takes a second or two to comprehend, but then he stumbles to his feet, wide eyed with surprise, and makes his way back to the balcony doors. He glances back one last time but Gil is resolutely looking away from Malcolm, and Malcolm's heart breaks at the indifference the man seems to feel towards him. </p><p>He walks slowly back to his room, shellshocked and unsure of exactly what just happened. Gil's never been so short with him before, and he can't help but wonder if he did something wrong to make him so short tempered. He paces his room, mind firing rapidly, shooting a million different questions and hypotheticals at him as he walks, tension building with every span of the room.</p><p>While the anxiety builds and swells, sitting like a weight that's crushing his chest, he realizes that he needs to get out of the room. </p><p>Needs to get away from Gil. </p><p>This unrequited love that he's been harbouring all these years is going to destroy him if he doesn't find a way to move past it. Soon. He can't keep going on like this, when he knows that Gil could never love him back.</p><p>And suddenly Eric's words come floating back to him. <em>The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else</em>. </p><p>Suite 309.</p><p>It's time, he realizes, to stop living in a fantasy world. To stop pining like a lovesick schoolgirl for something that can never be. It's time to move on.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He changes back into his clothes from dinner and grabs his phone, debating for just a second before he fires off a text to Gil. He may want to get over the man, but he doesn't want to make him worry if he wakes up in the morning and Malcolm isn't back. And with any luck, Eric will keep him busy long into the morning.</p><p>He grabs his key card and phone, slips on his shoes, and is heading towards Eric's suite before he can talk himself out of it. And every time he starts to second guess himself, he pictures Gil telling him to leave, and it strengthens his resolve to go through with his impromptu plan.</p><p>It's not long before he's standing in front of the wooden door, the tasteful black '309' staring at him as he hesitates with his hand held in a fist just in front of the door. It's a terrible idea, he thinks. He doesn't know anything about this guy, he's in love with someone else, his emotions are running far too high to make a rational decision.</p><p>But then he remembers the look on Gil's face, and raps lightly on the door. It takes a couple of minutes for the door to open, and when it does, he's met with Eric in nothing but his boxers, clearly having just woken up, but greeting Malcolm with a smile nonetheless.</p><p>"Oh. Did I wake you?" Malcolm asks, only just realizing that it's probably quite late. He glances down at his watch, shocked to see that it's nearly 2 am. "I am so sorry. I didn't realize it was quite so late."</p><p>"It's fine," Eric says, leaning casually against the door frame, arms crossed over his sculpted chest. "Good looking man shows up at my door in the middle of the night? I'm not going to complain about the time."</p><p>There's an ease to the man that makes Malcolm begin to relax, some of the tension draining away just from being in his presence. He smiles sheepishly up at him, still feeling a little wrong footed about knocking on his door so late at night, with no idea of what to say to explain his presence. </p><p>"Would you like to come in?" Eric asks, stepping back from the door frame and gesturing for Malcolm to enter, saving him from having to come up with a reason for being there.</p><p>Malcolm sucks in a fortifying breath and smiles weakly up at him before sliding past him into his room. It's similar to the set up of the suite that he and Gil have, with a bedroom off of each side of the living space, one door open and the other closed, but it's quite a bit smaller and far less lavishly decorated. He keeps silent as he turns back to Eric, assuming that the second bedroom contains one of his companions from the table and not wanting to wake them up. He realizes just how lucky he is that it was Eric that answered his knock, saving him from what could have been a very awkward conversation.</p><p>Eric leads him to the bedroom with the open door, Malcolm's heart fluttering in his chest as Eric closes the door behind them before turning to face Malcolm with an openly inquisitive expression pulling his eyebrows up. </p><p>"Changed your mind about your dinner partner?" Eric asks, not a trace of judgement in his tone, just an honest curiosity about Malcolm's change of heart.</p><p>"I'd really rather not talk about it, if it's all the same to you," Malcolm says, his stomach flipping uneasily at the thought of Gil. The very last thing he needs is thoughts of Gil invading his mind while he does...whatever it is that he's about to do.</p><p>"Sure," Eric nods knowingly, "let's focus on us." Eric moves towards Malcolm slowly, tongue darting out to moisten his lip as he moves, and Malcolm can see his interest in the way his boxers are starting to tent. It sends a frisson of excitement shooting down his spine, his breath catching in his throat as Eric stops only inches away. "What do you want, Malcolm?"</p><p>It's the million dollar question. </p><p>And Malcolm sure as hell doesn't have the answer. </p><p>Instead of trying to come up with a response to such a seemingly simple inquiry, Malcolm leans in and tilts his head up, pushing himself on his tiptoes so he can press his lips to Eric's. </p><p>It starts off slow. Gentle. Learning the feel of one another's mouths. But soon it turns heated and Eric's tongue sweeps over Malcolm's lips, seeking entry, and Malcolm's jaw drops as Eric's hands find their way to his lower back, yanking him up against Eric's hard body. Eric takes advantage of Malcolm's gasp and his tongue slides into Malcolm's mouth, rubbing against Malcolm's own tongue with a wet slide.</p><p>Eric's hands drift from Malcolm's lower back to the front of his lightweight jacket, grabbing hold and pushing it back over his shoulders. Malcolm is vaguely aware of him draping it over the back of the chair beside them, but is mostly focused on the feel of Eric's tongue as it spears into his mouth, and the way his erection is pressing hard into Malcolm's belly through his boxers. </p><p>Without breaking their kiss, Eric's hands trail to Malcolm's shirt, expertly undoing one button at a time, hands moving from collar to waist. He only pulls back when he reaches where the shirt is tucked into Malcolm's pants, and it's only to pull the tails of the shirt out so he can continue undoing the buttons. Eric's lips lock back onto his as his nails scrape down Malcolm's chest and abdomen, down to the button of his pants, making quick work of the button and fly.</p><p>Malcolm's own hands drift over Eric's toned body, muscles firm and hard beneath his skin. He's basically the male form perfected, expertly sculpted with sunkissed skin and a handsome face to top it all off. But as Malcolm's hands roam over his body, as Eric's talented fingers slide into Malcolm's pants and cup his growing erection, Malcolm abruptly realizes that he doesn't want <em>perfect</em>.</p><p>He wants Gil.</p><p>He pulls back with a gasp, breaths coming faster than he'd like just from the light touches of Eric's hand. "I'm sorry," he pants, taking a step back from Eric. And then another. "I can't do this. I'm sorry."</p><p>Eric looks confused for just a moment before a dawning realization spreads over his features. "It's fine. He's a lucky man."</p><p>Malcolm feels a hot prickle in the back of his eyes, and he drops his head, using the excuse of doing up his pants to blink back the tears that are threatening to escape. He knows he still has no chance with Gil, but apparently his treacherous heart won't let him move on with anyone else.</p><p>He doesn't bother doing up his shirt, needing to get out, to get some air, to <em>get away</em> from the situation he's put himself in. Eric steps out of his way, leaving a clear path to the door, and Malcolm chances a quick look up as he whispers one last time, "I'm sorry."</p><p>"Take care of yourself Malcolm. I hope you get what you're looking for," Eric says, and Malcolm is surprised to see that he actually seems to mean it. After being woken up and teased at two in the morning, he would've expected anger or disappointment. Instead, Eric seems to genuinely hope Malcolm makes things work with Gil.</p><p>Malcolm nods and grabs his jacket, moving past Eric to leave his room and then the suite entirely. He walks briskly back to his room, shirt flapping as he goes, feeling a mess of emotions washing over him as he tries to keep the tears at bay. He feels terrible for leading Eric on, and stupid for not being able to go through with it. He's heartbroken and horny and embarrassed and feels angry with himself for feeling all of those things in the first place. </p><p>He honestly just wants to leave. To go home, back to the safety of work and an apartment that he doesn't have to share with the man that he's foolishly in love with. By the time he's standing outside their suite, he's already decided that he'll call the travel agency in the morning and find a flight home for that day. </p><p>He intends to slip onto his room and hide out until it's time for him to leave, and is surprised to find the lights on in the sitting room when he opens the door. Gil is standing in the middle of the room in shorts and a t-shirt, mid stride, and if Malcolm didn't know better, he'd assume the man had been pacing. </p><p>Malcolm is so caught off guard by Gil's presence that he doesn't spare a thought for how he must look; shirt undone with fading nail marks tracking down his skin, eyes red and glassy with tears, and, despite his best efforts, tear tracks lining his cheeks. He doesn't consider the sight he must present until Gil damn near growls, "Did he hurt you?"</p><p>Gil stalks over to where Malcolm is still standing in the doorway, frozen in place by the shock of seeing Gil when he'd been expecting to slink into his room, unnoticed, to lick his wounds. His hands are gentle but firm as he guides Malcolm into the room, into the bright lights that are illuminating the sitting room. Malcolm remains stunned silent as Gil's gaze sweeps over him from head to toe, taking in every single detail with his highly-trained eyes.</p><p>"Bright," Gil says, moving closer and wrapping his hand tenderly around the back of Malcolm's neck. The touch is so soft and so familiar that Malcolm has to close his eyes against the rush of emotions that explode inside of him. "Kid, please talk to me."</p><p>But Malcolm can't. He's terrified that if he opens his mouth right now, that everything will come spilling out and he just <em>can't</em>. </p><p>But suddenly Malcolm can feel the tension thrumming through Gil's body, even though his touch is kept gentle on Malcolm's neck. He opens his eyes and sees a well of emotion in Gil's eyes, enough to steal his breath away.</p><p>"If he hurt you, I'll fucking kill him," Gil growls, and Malcolm can tell he's ready to bang on every door in the resort until he finds the right room. He doesn't even want to think about what Gil would be willing to do if he found Eric.</p><p>He shakes his head, trying to convey that Eric did nothing wrong, that he was the perfect gentleman, but he can't bring himself to say the words.</p><p>Until Gil lets go of his neck, leaving him cold and alone, and heads towards the door, clearly intent on tracking down Eric.</p><p>"Gil, don't," Malcolm finally bites out.</p><p>Gil spins back to him, anguish written in every line on his face, shaking as he says, "He's not going to get away with—"</p><p>“He wasn’t you, Gil," Malcolm interrupts, voice breaking around the words as his shoulders sag in defeat. "All he did was not be you.”</p><p>Gil's anger disappears in an instant. It shifts into a confusion that Malcolm fully anticipates, but where he's expecting to see disappointment and disgust, he finds a spark of hope that he can't quite comprehend. </p><p>Malcolm holds his breath as Gil slowly makes his way back, afraid of what's to come but unable to look away. Gil's hand comes up in an aborted gesture that Malcolm is sure was intended to land on his neck once again, and he finds himself disappointed when the hand drops back to Gil's side. He wonders if he'll ever get to feel that comfort again. </p><p>It also makes him wonder: if Gil's already unable to bring himself to touch Malcolm, what else is he about to lose. Will he want to stop working with him? Stop seeing him all together? Did Malcolm just destroy the one constant relationship in his life, outside of his mother and sister?</p><p>"Gil, I'm sorry," Malcolm jumps directly into damage control, heart pumping wildly in his chest as he contemplates the loss of Gil from his life. "I shouldn't have said that. I never intended to make you uncomfortable, and the last thing I want is to jeopardize what we have."</p><p>"Kid," Gil says so quietly it's barely more than a brush of air.</p><p>"You're the most important person in my life, and it kills me to think that I could lose you because of this."</p><p>"Bright," Gil steps closer, until he's only inches from Malcolm.</p><p>"We can totally pretend I never said anything, if that makes things easier. Like you said, what happens in Mexico stays in Mexico, right?" Malcolm knows he's rambling, his hands flying as he speaks, the way they always do when he's nervous, but this is too important to give up on, so he heaves in another breath, ready to apologize, beg, bargain, whatever it takes to set things right.</p><p>Gil grabs hold of Malcolm's wildly gesticulating hands and brings them between them, firmly saying, "Bright."</p><p>Malcolm's jaw snaps shut, the feel of Gil's warm hands on his skin making his heart flutter, even as the dread continues to pool in his gut.</p><p>"Do you really want me? Us?" Gil asks, eyes fixed on Malcolm's face as if staring hard enough will provide him with the answers he's looking for. </p><p>Malcolm debates lying for a second, thinking maybe he can somehow backpedal his way out of this wreck, but he quickly decides that there's no way to take back the bomb he just dropped and it would be best to deal with the fallout now. </p><p>"Yes," he whispers, "More than anything."</p><p>He would swear that it happens in slow motion. Gil's lips quirk up into a small, soft smile, and then he's leaning down, bringing their lips together in a kiss that leaves Malcolm breathless and tingling from head to toe. It's better than any fantasy his mind could ever create, Gil's lips feeling especially soft next to the rasp of his facial hair against Malcolm's face. He squeezes Gil's hands, grounding himself as he tries to convince himself that it's real, that Gil is <em>actually</em> kissing him like he's been dreaming about for so many years.</p><p>Their lips slot together perfectly, puzzle pieces made for one another, as they tentatively ease into the kiss, all of Malcolm's fears and anxiety draining away as Gil's mouth moves over his. When Gil finally pulls back, it takes Malcolm a moment to get his bearings and open his eyes, afraid of what he'll see when he does.</p><p>When he finally builds up the courage to blink his eyes open, he realizes he had nothing to be worried about. Gil is standing in front of him, mirth crinkling his eyes as he watches Malcolm process the kiss. Their hands are still joined between them, but Gil releases Malcolm's right hand as soon as he pulls it back, allowing him to bring his fingers to skim over his mouth, still warm from the press of Gil's lips, and he can't help the smile that spreads over his face.</p><p>"Um," Malcolm says, all traces of eloquence vanished along with any coherent thoughts he once possessed. </p><p>"Was that okay?" Gil asks, still only inches away, so close that Malcolm can feel the heat radiating from him.</p><p>He nods slowly, still processing exactly what just happened, knowing he needs to answer Gil before the man can start second guessing himself. He decides, in the end, that actions are better than words, and threads his hand into Gil's hair — surprised to find it even softer than it looks — pulling him in for another kiss. </p><p>There's much less shock this time, and considerably more tongue. </p><p>Gil tastes perfect. Like scotch and sunshine and home. It's everything he'd ever hoped it would be, and then some, and it feels like he's just learning, for the first time in his life, what kissing is <em>supposed</em> to feel like.</p><p>When Gil's hands move to wrap around Malcolm's shoulders, holding him gently but firm in his arms, Malcolm allows his own hands to fall to Gil's waist. It's such a small thing, he knows, but it pleases him to no end that he's getting to touch Gil like this, in a way that feels so intimate.</p><p>When they break apart this time, there's an unspoken agreement to stay in one another's arms, foreheads pressed lightly together as they breathe each other in.</p><p>"We're gonna need to talk about this," Gil whispers eventually, breaking over the sound of waves that are serenely crashing on the beach outside.</p><p>He's not wrong. They <em>do</em> need to talk about this. About a lot of things, actually. But it's the middle of the night and he can feel how tired Gil is by how his muscles are falling lax where they're pressed together and the fact that he's smothering his yawns as they stand in each other's arms.</p><p>"Tomorrow," he says, suddenly delighted by the prospect of days in the sun spent at Gil's side, and maybe, if luck is on his side for once in his life, nights spent in Gil's bed. "It's late and that's going to be a lengthy conversation."</p><p>Gil hums his agreement but makes no move to separate from Malcolm, seemingly content to stay where he is, and Malcolm certainly isn't complaining, but he can think of somewhere far more comfortable that they could be spending their time together.</p><p>"Could we, uh, I mean, if you want," Malcolm stumbles over his words, trying to suggest without sounding suggestive.</p><p>"What do you need, kid?" Gil asks so earnestly that the embarrassment fades away in an instant.</p><p>"We should sleep," he says, taking in Gil's surprise at the statement, and adding, "Maybe we could sleep together?"</p><p>He's about to insists that he truly does mean <em>sleep</em> and nothing else, at least not until they've had that conversation, but looking into Gil's eyes, he can tell that Gil already understands exactly what he means. And the soft look on his face says that he likes the idea an awful lot.</p><p>"Yours or mine?" Gil asks simply.</p><p>"Yours."</p><p>For one of the most complicated issues in Malcolm's life, it's all surprisingly simple. Gil leads them into his bedroom with an arm around his shoulder, and suddenly they're alone, together, stripping down into their underwear (and a t-shirt for Gil) and crawling beneath the covers.</p><p>Malcolm moves tentatively at first, uncertain of what exactly is acceptable in this new dynamic, but Gil seems to be less unsure and tugs Malcolm into his body, pulling Malcolm so that his back is pressed up against Gil's front. It shocks Malcolm just how natural it feels to be snuggled into Gil, to have him curled around his body, fitting together perfectly like they're made to be wrapped up in one another's arms.</p><p>"Still okay?" Gil asks quietly once they're settled in and the lights are off, only the dim glow of the patio lights shining through the open doors to illuminate the room in a soft glow.</p><p>"Perfect," Malcolm whispers, heart fluttering as he feels Gil's lips pull into a smile where they're pressed against his shoulder.</p><p>It takes longer than Malcolm expects for Gil's breathing to even out, falling deep and even, and for his muscles to relax as sleep takes him over, and Malcolm wonders if Gil is just as excited and nervous about this — whatever <em>this</em> is — as he is. He has so many questions, and, if he's honest with himself, even more fears, about how things are about to change between them. Will it affect their working relationship, how will the team feel about it, can Jessica accept Gil's evolving role in his life, what happens if things don't work out?</p><p>The questions trip over themselves in his mind as he lays there, fully expecting to spend the night awake and perfectly fine with the idea; he intends to cherish every moment he has in Gil's arms. He's shocked, therefore, when he wakes up to the morning sun pouring through the open window, splashing across the floor and over the bed, the sounds of the ocean and the peal of children's laughter welcoming him to a new day.</p><p><em>Everything</em> feels new.</p><p>There's a lightness in his heart that he can't recall ever feeling before, a joy that sneaks through every part of his body that makes him tuck his head down to hide the goofy smile that he can't seem to contain. Gil's arm is still slung over his waist, still pulling him flush against his chest, and Malcolm realizes that he just slept, for several hours, uninterrupted. </p><p>Keeping his body as still as he can, he twists around to see Gil, still sound asleep, looking entirely at peace and healthier than he has since the whole incident with Endicott. It makes him wonder if Gil was, perhaps, not as okay as he'd been claiming to be, and he's relieved that Gil managed to get a good night's sleep, free from nightmares, as well.</p><p>Settling back against his pillow, he lets his mind shut off — a task that's usually a step beyond impossible — as he watches the light slowly travel across the floor, far too comfortable to want to move, and more than happy to wait as long as it takes for Gil to wake, even if it takes all day.</p><p>He's not even sure how long he's been laying there when Gil slowly starts to rouse, pulling Malcolm tighter against his chest. "Mmmm. Morning, city boy." The hum vibrates through Gil's chest and into Malcolm's body as he tucks himself in even closer.</p><p>"Good morning." He traces his fingers in idle circles along Gil's arm and down to his hand. He's about to ask if Gil has any regrets, any second thoughts about pursuing this, but suddenly there are warm lips on the back of his neck kissing a lazy trail of kisses down his spine, from the base of his hairline to just above his shoulder blades. Cleary, Gil still wants this.</p><p>Malcolm's body reacts instinctively, blood rushing south, hips rolling back against Gil, and he moans quietly when he feels Gil stiffening against him. He grinds against Gil, this time intentionally, aching to feel more of the man, but Gil's hand slides down to splay wide over the lower part of his abdomen, stilling his movements.</p><p>"Christ, Bright," Gil huffs out, breathy with desire, "we need to talk first."</p><p>"Do we?" Malcolm asks, letting his eyes flutter closed as Gil's rapidly growing erection swells against his ass with only two thin layers of underwear separating him from what he really wants. He rocks his hips again, savoring the groan that's pulled from deep in Gil's chest.</p><p>"Yes," Gil says, but it sounds far too much like a question to hold any real conviction.</p><p>"Do you want this? Do you want a relationship with me?" Malcolm asks simply, looking over his shoulder at the man that he's been in love with for so many years, holding his breath as he waits for an answer that he knows could change the course of his life.</p><p>"Yeah, kid, I do." There's a sincerity to the statement that warms Malcolm and sets loose the butterflies in his stomach, equal parts nervousness and excitement taking over. </p><p>"I want this, too," he says earnestly, hoping Gil can tell exactly how much he means it. "Everything else is just details."</p><p>He sees Gil hesitate, brows pulling down as he prepares to argue that it's a hell of a lot more than just details. He also sees the exact moment that he realizes Malcolm is right.</p><p>"You sure about this?" Gil asks, pulling Malcolm closer with the hand pressed flat against his body, and Malcolm can feel the tension in the man's muscles as he holds himself back. The fact that he's restraining himself to make sure that Malcolm is truly okay with everything means the world to Malcolm, reaffirming the long held belief that it's safe to put his trust in Gil.</p><p>"I've never been more sure about anything in my life." </p><p>Once again, something messy and complicated shifts in an instant into something painfully simple. Gil leans forward and brings their lips together, and the angle is all wrong and <em>oh, so right</em>, and Malcolm is so lost in the feeling of Gil's lips on his that he doesn't notice at first as Gil's hand slides lower, dipping beneath the elastic of his boxer briefs. </p><p>Gil chuckles into his mouth when his jaw drops on a groan, shocked and delighted as Gil's warm hand wraps around his cock for the first time, stroking lightly with a touch that's just the right side of teasing. None of Malcolm's fantasies hold a candle to how it actually feels to have Gil's hands on his body, to have his toned body pressed against him.</p><p>"Gil," the name falls from his lips like a prayer. And maybe it is.</p><p>"Yeah, kid, I've got you," Gil says against his mouth, the brush of his whiskers a counterpoint to the breath of air that ghosts over Malcolm's lips. "Tell me what you want."</p><p>"You." </p><p>He's never wanted anything more.</p><p>He can feel Gil's interest pressing up against him, but he just continues stroking Malcolm's cock as he asks, "You sure? There's no going back after that."</p><p>Malcolm hopes and prays that's true. He doesn't want to go back to hiding his feelings and ignoring the ache in his chest every time he sees him. "Yes. I'm sure. Please, Gil." He drops his head to the pillow as Gil's lips drift to his jaw and start a meandering path down his neck.</p><p>"Condom?" Gil nips at the base of his neck.</p><p>"Only if you want it," Malcolm says, hardly believing his ears, hardly believing that Gil is actually going to fuck him. "I'm clean, and I'd very much like to feel you inside of me." He hopes that Gil chooses to forgo the condom, partly because he didn't bring any. It's not like he thought he'd need them.</p><p>The way Gil's cock twitches against his ass, and the small groan that slips from his lips, tells Malcolm that Gil is definitely on board to take him bareback and Malcolm bucks into Gil's hand at the thought.</p><p>"Yeah," Gil breathes out. "Gimme a sec."</p><p>Malcolm groans when the hand disappears from his cock and he flips onto his back as the mattress shifts behind him. Gil walks over to his suitcase searching through the various pockets and letting out a quiet "aha" as he finds what he's looking for. He comes back to the bed with a small bottle of lube, chuckling as he takes in Malcolm's wide eyes.</p><p>"Never hurts to be prepared," he shrugs before climbing back into bed, holding himself above Malcolm's body as he leans down to kiss him. "Figured it would never happen, but wanted to be ready in case it did."</p><p>The fact that Gil had been thinking about this back home, proof that this isn't just some vacation indiscretion, makes Malcolm's breath catch in his throat.</p><p>Gil wants him.</p><p>He pulls Gil down so he's practically laying on top of him and kisses him hard, tongue sneaking out and darting into his mouth, letting his hands wander down Gil's body to the hem of his shirt, tugging lightly, wanting to feel more of his skin pressed against him. The action has the exact opposite effect that Malcolm wants, though, and Gil pulls back with a small frown creasing his beautiful features.</p><p>It doesn't take a profiler to see that Gil is self conscious about removing his shirt. Malcolm knows it has nothing to do with the shape he's in — for a man his age he is shockingly fit — and everything to do with the healing stab wound.</p><p>Malcolm sits up, taking hold of Gil's hands before he has a chance to pull away. "I'm sorry," Malcolm says, "you don't need to take it off if you don't want to." He bites down on his lip, unsure if he should say anything further, but deciding that Gil deserves to know. "But just so you know, you don't need to hide from me. This scar," he reaches out tentatively laying a hand over the area of his soft t-shirt that's concealing the mark, "is a physical reminder of your courage. You walked into the lion's den to save my mother, Gil. You have nothing to be ashamed of."</p><p>Malcolm waits patiently while Gil looks him over intently, searching for something that he obviously finds, because he leans in and kisses Malcolm with a tenderness that steals his breath away.</p><p>"What did I do to deserve you?" Gil eventually whispers, pulling back just far enough that he can look Malcolm in the eye. It's not the first time Malcolm's heard those words, but it <em>is</em> the first time that they've been said with love, rather than contempt. "Lay back," Gil says, tugging the blanket and sheet down to the foot of the bed as Malcolm follows his directions, hesitating for only a moment before pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside.</p><p>Laid out flat on the bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs, Malcolm feels a thrill of excitement skitter over his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. The feeling only intensifies as Gil's hands drop to Malcolm's waistband, pausing only for Malcolm's nod before he pulls them down and drops them over the side of the bed. He feels his cock fill as Gil's eyes roam over his naked body, seeing the lust that washes over his face. It's surprisingly intoxicating to know that he has that kind of effect on the man.</p><p>Gil's tongue pokes out to moisten his lips before he asks, "Can I eat your ass, kid?" </p><p>Malcolm doesn't think he's ever been more turned on in his life.</p><p>He spreads his legs in lieu of an answer and watches Gil's pupils blow wide in response. In the space of a breath, Gil has settled himself on his stomach between Malcolm's legs, sliding his hands up the back of Malcolm's thighs and pushing them towards his chest, baring the furled muscle for easy access. Gil dives in, lips latching around the muscle to suck as his tongue darts out to get his first taste of Malcolm's body, groaning obscenely as he laps. The vibrations travel right through Malcolm and he bites down on his lip to keep from shouting at the pure pleasure that floods his body.</p><p>In his wildest dreams, he never imagined that Gil would want this, would want <em>him</em> like this. The way the man's tongue is swirling around his rim and darting into his body, though, makes Malcolm lose hold of that thought, and all others, in a quick hurry. All he can do is focus on Gil's single-minded assault on his hole as he opens up beneath the enthusiastic ministrations. He makes the mistake of looking down between his legs, seeing Gil's warm eyes twinkling back at him as he slowly circles his tongue around the twitching muscle, and Malcolm has to let go of one of his legs to grab the base of his cock, staving off the orgasm that nearly overtakes him.</p><p>Warm air huffs over his spit-slicked hole as Gil chuckles at the reaction, making the muscle contract, searching for something to clamp onto.</p><p>"Gil, please," Malcolm grits out, still keeping a firm hold on his cock. He's been waiting for this for far too long to pop off before they even get started. "I want to come with you inside of me."</p><p>"Kid," Gil says, reaching up to grab hold of his hand to pry it from its grip on his cock, linking their fingers together and holding Malcolm's hand against the mattress beside his hip. He presses a kiss to Malcolm's perineum before shifting his body up ever so slightly, "if you think you're only going to be coming once, you're in for a surprise."</p><p>Suddenly Gil's mouth is enveloping Malcolm's cock, the flat of his tongue massaging the underside while he hollows his cheeks and sucks, bobbing his head with one clear goal in mind. </p><p>"Fuck!" Malcolm shouts, but his words quickly turn incoherent as orgasm slams into him, spraying hard down Gil's throat before he can even warn him it's coming. Gil doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, though, merely slowing the speed he's swallowing Malcolm at, working him through his orgasm until he's trembling with oversensitivity. Only then does he pull off and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, pushing himself to his knees between Malcolm's spread thighs.</p><p>"I'd very much love to fuck you right now, Bright, but if you need me to wait—"</p><p>"No! I mean, yes," Malcolm interrupts before Gil can finish the sentence. There are few things he loves more than being used for someone's pleasure when he's already oversensitive, though he's often too embarrassed to admit that to his lovers. Gil just smiles down at him as he hurries to elaborate. "Yes. Please. Now."</p><p>His chest is still heaving from his orgasm, the words coming out breathy and urgent, but all of the air catches in his chest as Gil sheds his underwear and he feels him nudge up against his hole. Once the head has popped through the tight ring of muscle, Gil leans down and takes Malcolm's mouth as he slides the rest of the way in. It can hardly be called a kiss, as Malcolm's jaw drops at the feeling of having Gil inside of him, but Gil continues to press nipping kisses to his lips until Malcolm finally has the wherewithal to return the favour.</p><p>Bottomed out, Gil stills his movements, letting Malcolm adjust to feeling so full. Gil is thick and the stretch is intense, but Malcolm doesn't want to wait any longer. He's already been waiting years for this and needs to feel Gil moving. Now.</p><p>"Please," he whispers against Gil's lips, his hands scrambling in desperation over the firm body on top of him.</p><p>Gil licks into his mouth one last time and then pushes back up to his knees, dragging an extra pillow along with him to stuff under Malcolm's hips. The new angle is perfect and Malcolm lets out a contented moan as Gil slowly pulls back and then snaps his hips forward, brushing over his prostate as he moves.</p><p>"Jesus, Bright," Gil huffs as he sets a steady pace, rocking into Malcolm's body, "you're beautiful like this."</p><p>With his legs splayed wide over Gil's, and one arm tossed over his head to press against the headboard, completely laid bare for the man to take in, Malcolm can only imagine how he looks to Gil. But the way Gil's pupils are blown wide, and the way he becomes impossibly harder inside of Malcolm, he can tell that Gil most definitely likes what he sees. The flush that spreads over Malcolm's cheeks and down his chest at the realization only serves to spur Gil on, his groans becoming deeper as his eyes drink in Malcolm's body beneath him. </p><p>Malcolm becomes progressively more incoherent as Gil begins to pick up speed, losing his thoughts and words at a startling speed. When Gil lifts up one of his legs and drapes it over his shoulder so that he can pound in deeper and harder, Malcolm surrenders his words altogether. He's reduced to gasping breaths and needy moans that Gil leans down to capture with his mouth, folding Malcolm nearly in half as he moves.</p><p>"Malcolm, I'm close," Gil grits out, but Malcolm can already tell that from the way his rhythm starts to falter. "Come with me. Come with me inside of you."</p><p>The warm hand that wraps around his cock takes him completely by surprise and he clenches his internal muscles around Gil at the contact. It's enough to send Gil over the edge, his hips stuttering before he slams into Malcolm one final time, shooting his load deep inside. Like dominoes, the feeling of Gil coming inside of him is enough to tip Malcolm into another orgasm of his own, Gil's hand working him through in an uneven rhythm.</p><p>Gil nearly collapses on top of Malcolm once they're finally spent, both men breathing hard as they come down from their encounter. With his elbows on the bed on either side of Malcolm, Gil drops his forehead to Malcolm's collarbone while his breathing evens out, still buried inside of Malcolm, a point of contact that neither of them seem in a hurry to lose. </p><p>It's not until Gil's softened cock slips out on it's own that he rolls off of Malcolm, but only far enough to press up against his side and toss an arm across his stomach, holding him close. Malcolm curls into the embrace and brings his lips to Gil's, sharing a million lazy kisses as they lay in bed, the sun streaking across the room and the sound of the ocean pulling them both into a light doze.</p><p>Some time later, Gil tightens his hand around Malcolm's waist and whispers, "We should go shower."</p><p>The 'we' in that sentence makes Malcolm smile, his eyes still closed as he relaxes into Gil's embrace, and Gil leans in to kiss the corners of his mouth where they tilt up. "Together?" Malcolm asks when Gil finally pulls back.</p><p>Malcolm feels Gil's chuckle ghost across his skin before he says, "Sure thing, kid. As long as you're not expecting round two already."</p><p>Malcolm opens his eyes at that, crystalline blue meeting a fathomless brown, asking quietly, "But there <em>will</em> be a round two, eventually?" Try as he might to keep the insecurity from his voice, even he can hear how unsure he sounds.</p><p>Gil's hand slides up Malcolm's body and stops as he cups his face, his thumb absently stroking along his jaw. "Malcolm, I wasn't kidding around when I said that I wanted this. Us. I fully intend for us to <em>thoroughly</em> enjoy this vacation, and when we get back to New York, I fully intend to court you properly." Gil drops a series of small kisses all over Malcolm's face before his expression turns mock-serious and he adds, "I should warn you, there <em>will</em> be flowers. And actual dates that don't involve a crime scene or discussions of murder."</p><p>It's clear that the smile that breaks over Malcolm's face is exactly what Gil was aiming for and he answers it with a grin of his own, brushing their noses together playfully.</p><p>"About that shower…" Malcolm says, picturing Gil's hands soaping up his body, surprised to feel a feeble twitch of interest from his spent cock. He's definitely not ready to go again either, but apparently not every part of him got the memo.</p><p>"Come on,“ Gil says, climbing over Malcolm to get out on his side of the bed, offering a hand to Malcolm to pull him up as well. "The beach awaits."</p><p>They spend a little longer than is strictly necessary in the shower, hands roaming teasingly as they discover each other's bodies, but soon they're dressed in trunks and t-shirts once again, heading out to settle on the beach for a while before they hunt down breakfast. </p><p>The same spot they were at the day before is open once again, but this time Gil stays beneath the palapa with Malcolm, pushing their beach chairs close together so they can occasionally reach over and give each other's hands a light squeeze as they both relax with their books.</p><p>Malcolm gives up trying to focus on the words in front of him when he realizes his attention keeps drifting to the man beside him instead. He drops his book to his stomach, open to the last page that he was actually paying attention to, and rolls his head to look over at Gil. Even with only the short time in the sun yesterday, Gil is already a shade or two darker. Malcolm's not sure if it's the sun-kissed skin or the fact that Gil looks relaxed and happy, but the man is especially beautiful at the moment. After a moment of contemplating his good looks, Gil's goatee twitches up as an amused smile spreads over his face.</p><p>"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Gil jokes, lowering his own book as he turns to face Malcolm, letting him know that he's been caught staring.</p><p>"That's an excellent idea," Malcolm grins and sits up, moving his book to the foot of the chair and reaching for his phone.</p><p>"I was kidding, Bright. It's an expression," Gil chuckles, but he doesn't seem to mind when Malcolm aims his phone and snaps a few pictures.</p><p>"Doesn't make it any less of a good idea," Malcolm says as he settles back into his lounger, phone in his hand as he swipes through the pictures he just took. "It's pretty unusual to see you this relaxed. Now I have evidence that it's possible."</p><p>Gil just shakes his head, bemused and indulgent, and takes hold of Malcolm's hand, bringing it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. "Guess you must be good for me."</p><p>That's honestly not something Malcolm ever considered. The possibility that, maybe, he could be good for Gil in the same way that Gil has always been a positive force in Malcolm's life is a powerful thought. There's nothing he wants more than for Gil to be happy. He'd just never would have believed that <em>he</em> was one of the factors in making that happen.</p><p>Gil seems content to leave him to his thoughts, placing one last kiss on the back of his hand before releasing it and picking his book back up, settling into his lounger looking perfectly content with his lot in life.</p><p>For his part, Malcolm spends the next hour or so rethinking everything that he'd considered to be true, slowly discarding his long held beliefs and assumptions. By the time Gil speaks again, Malcolm is more at peace than he's been in a very long time.</p><p>"I don't know about you, but I could sure use a coffee right about now. And maybe a bite to eat," Gil says, reaching over to give Malcolm's neck a squeeze and pull him from the depths of his thoughts.</p><p>"That sounds perfect," Malcolm smiles.</p><p>They make their way to the dining hall hand-in-hand, leisurely walking through the beautifully landscaped grounds, knowing they have all the time in the world. The resort is stunning, lines of palm trees broken by vibrant exotic flowers and lush foliage that seems to dance in the light breeze that's blowing in from the ocean.</p><p>Malcolm is quite certain, in that moment, that he's never been happier.</p><p>Breakfast is just as unhurried as everything else, though Malcolm is pleased to see that Gil seems to have a healthy appetite, his plate filled with a little bit of everything from the extravagant buffet that lines one end of the room. He knows that Gil is still healing, mentally and physically, from the attempt on his life, but it heartens him to see the man dig in to his breakfast like he used to back when Jackie would fry them up a feast on Sunday mornings and they would sit around the table with good food, good conversation, and a whole lot of love. </p><p>Malcolm sticks with coffee and toast, shrugging apologetically at Gil's worried glance. Breakfast has never really been kind to him, though, and the last thing he wants is a day spent in the bathroom. Especially when he has far more exciting plans for the two of them.</p><p>As if Gil is reading his mind, he asks, "So is there anything specific you feel like doing today?" The deep laugh he gets in response to his waggling eyebrows makes Malcolm's heart stutter in his chest. "Anything <em>besides</em> that?"</p><p>Malcolm smiles and reaches across their small table, wrapping his fingers around Gil's, feeling oddly comfortable with the vulnerability as he says, "Honestly, so long as I can spend the day with you, I'm good."</p><p>Gil turns his hand over to take a better hold of Malcolm's, the two men sharing a quiet moment, feeling the room disappear around them as they get lost in one another's gaze. It's only as a waiter comes over to top their coffee up that they break apart with small smiles that leave no doubt as to how they feel.</p><p>"Gracias," Malcolm nods to the man as he adds a splash of milk to Gil's cup.</p><p>"De Nada," the man smiles down at their joined hands before turning and carrying on to the next table.</p><p>They sip at their coffee in a comfortable silence before Gil surprises Malcolm by saying, "I noticed that they had kayak rentals. What would you think of giving that a shot this afternoon?"</p><p>"Are you sure you're up for that?" Malcolm asks, eyes dropping to the spot where he knows the stab wound hasn't fully healed. Gil may be looking better than he has since he was stabbed, but Malcolm knows from experience how long it takes for the body to <em>truly</em> heal from something like that.</p><p>"You worried about me, kid?" Gil laughs into his coffee cup but turns serious as he notices Malcolm's concerned expression, lowering his mug to the saucer on the table. "Hey. I'm fine, Bright. I promise. Even talked to the doctor before we left to make sure it was safe to go in the ocean. It is, by the way."</p><p>It surprises Malcolm just how relieved he feels to hear that. Gil's been out of the woods for a long while now, and Malcolm thought that the fear for his safety had fully dissipated. Clearly he was wrong.</p><p>"Why don't we go wander the resort a little?" Gil says, giving his hand a squeeze and pulling him from his drifting thoughts. </p><p>"That sounds great," he says with a smile. Frankly Gil could suggest anything and Malcolm would be on board, so long as they were doing it together.</p><p>They make a quick stop back at the room to drop off their books and slather Malcolm in sunscreen (which Gil apparently takes as a <em>very</em> serious task, if the way his hands roam every inch of Malcolm's exposed skin is any indication) and then they're back on the pathways, wandering through the massive resort. They cover nearly the whole resort by mid afternoon, finding the locations of all the theme restaurants ("We'll have to try the Japanese while we're here," Malcolm says, knowing how much Gil enjoys sushi), the gym ("Who the hell spends their vacation in the gym?" Gil mutters as they walk past a lone man on a treadmill running in the window), the spa ("Couples massage tomorrow?" Malcolm suggests tentatively, pleased when Gil agrees almost immediately), and, in case of emergency, the on-site doctor's office ("I swear, if you end up needing medical attention while we're here, Bright…")</p><p>By the time they get back to their rooms several hours later, they're both sweaty from the heat of the blazing sun. Malcolm doesn't even think twice as he closes the door to their room and grabs hold of Gil's hand, tugging him along to the en suite in his room.</p><p>"Someone's in a hurry," Gil's booming laugh fills the room as Malcolm starts pulling off both of their clothes before they're even in the room.</p><p>"Feels like I've been waiting my entire life for you," Malcolm says, running his fingers through the sparse hair on Gil's chest as soon as his shirt has been removed. "Lots to make up for."</p><p>He thinks he ought to be embarrassed by the half sentences that are falling from his mouth, but suddenly his tongue is too busy tangling with Gil's to care about much else.</p><p>Gil reaches over blindly to fumble with the faucet and start the water flowing, then backs Malcolm into the room-temperature spray without breaking their kiss for even a moment. It's Malcolm that finally pulls away, fingers wrapped tight around Gil's biceps as he scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip, sucking in a deep breath through his nose. </p><p>"Can we, uh, speed this along?" Malcolm asks, the feel of Gil growing hard against his hip driving him absolutely crazy. He wants a taste, he wants to feel Gil inside of him, he wants everything. </p><p>"There's no rush, Bright. Relax," Gil murmurs, brushing Malcolm's hair from his face before he leans down and kisses him softly, letting the intensity subside so they can enjoy each other without the mind-clouding urgency. Gil's calm sinks into Malcolm's skin, traveling straight through his body to the very center of his being, his muscles uncoiling and the frantic need abating. The desire is left behind, though, somehow burning more purely than it was before. "Good boy," Gil whispers against Malcolm's lips as Malcolm eases against him, swallowing the wanton moan that's ripped from Malcolm at the words. When Gil pulls back, he looks a little stunned and a lot pleased, but Malcolm is far too aroused to care about just how hard those two simple words made him. "Maybe there's a bit of a rush," Gil says, his hands drifting down Malcolm's back to land on his ass, pulling him closer so they slide against one another, slick under the pouring water.</p><p>They make quick work of washing each other down, only sparing time for a stroke here and a kiss there before they hastily dry off and Gil is damn near carrying Malcolm to his bed. </p><p>Malcolm huffs out a laugh as Gil tosses him down into the middle of the bed, but it quickly turns to a gasp as Gil crawls over him and attacks his lips, tongue plundering his mouth like he's already fucking into him. In a feat of strength that definitely takes Gil by surprise, Malcolm wraps himself around Gil and flips them over so he's straddling Gil's hips, knees digging into the mattress below him. He keeps kissing the man for a moment, but soon gets impatient enough to taste more of Gil that he breaks their lip lock and begins to shimmy down Gil's body, licking and tasting as much skin as he can along the way.</p><p>He lingers at his nipples, nipping and sucking at the hardened pebbles one at a time, cataloging Gil's reactions to his ministrations as he alternates between left and right. He'd be content to stay there for hours, but at one particularly hard bite, Gil's cock twitches and bumps against his ass and suddenly Malcolm is reminded that this is just a pitstop on the way to a far more exciting destination.  The rest of the journey is a bit more hurried, stopping only to dip his tongue into Gil's belly button, in a rush to get to the prize that's waiting for him.</p><p>Though he's already had it inside of him, seeing Gil's cock up close and personal is a revelation. Malcolm has always thought of Gil as above average in every respect, and as he takes hold of Gil's cock in his hand, he sees that he's correct once again. Gil is definitely on the right side of the bell curve when it comes to the length of his cock, and he's <em>thick</em>, too. Malcolm's mouth waters as he thinks about his jaw straining around Gil's cock, imagining how it will feel stretching the muscles of his throat as he takes him all the way down until his nose is buried in the man's stomach. </p><p>He bites down on his bottom lip as he looks up to Gil, intending to ask for permission, but the expression on Gil's face razes his words and leaves him speechless. There's a desire burning so fiercely in Gil's eyes that Malcolm would swear he can feel the heat radiating down to where he's perched between Gil's legs. He takes it as a clear invitation to continue and, still looking up through his lashes, drops his head and places the gentlest of kisses on the tip of Gil's cock.</p><p>"Fuck," Gil's head drops back against the mattress, hands clenching into tight fists beside his hips in a clear sign of holding back.</p><p>Malcolm is dying to know what it feels like when he lets go.</p><p>"You can fuck my face if you want," Malcolm says quietly as he drags his lips down the length of Gil's cock, burying his face in the thatch of hair at the base. "I like it a little rough."</p><p>With his eyes closed as he breathes in the scent of body wash and something delicious that's unmistakably <em>Gil</em>, he doesn't see Gil's reaction, but the way the cock in his hand pulses at the offer gives Malcolm a pretty good idea about how Gil feels before the man even attempts to speak.</p><p>"I. Fuck," Gil huffs out a breath and then sucks in another through his teeth. "Christ, kid. Keep talking like that and it's not gonna get as far as you putting your mouth on me."</p><p>"Too late," Malcolm grins and pumps his hand over Gil's length while he sucks his balls into his mouth, pulling his head back and letting the suction tug enticingly at the flesh while his tongue works circles over the skin in his mouth. As much as he enjoys himself, it's not long before Malcolm can't wait any longer to feel the push of Gil's cock down his throat any longer and he releases his scrotum with a <em>pop</em>. </p><p>Gil's hand threads through his hair as soon as his mouth envelops the tip of his cock, not pushing him down or pulling roughly like Malcolm expects, merely running through the damp strands as Malcolm bobs his head at a steady pace, learning Gil's taste and discovering exactly how he feels as he glides over Malcolm's tongue and nudges at the back of his throat.</p><p>It's only as Gil's cock pushes into Malcolm's throat that his hand finally tightens to a fist in his hair, tugging at the roots. It's enough to cause Malcolm's own cock to drool precum as it stands at attention, entirely ignored as he focuses on Gil, and he can't help the moan that escapes as soon as Gil's cock is freed from the confines of his throat. The vibrations trigger a gasp from Gil and an aborted thrust of his hips, which only makes Malcolm moan louder. Their reactions encourage and embolden each other, and it's not long before Gil is thrusting up into Malcolm's throat and Malcolm is losing himself in the feeling of being claimed.</p><p>Gil's grip in his hair never turns cruel, but he does eventually tug him back as a caution that he's close to coming. Instead of warning him off, which he's sure is the intent, Malcolm doubles down, swallowing around the tip of Gil's cock with every bob of his head, working his tongue with the same determination he brings to working a case, intent on solving the mystery of how Gil tastes, discovering how his cock pulses as he shoots his load into Malcolm's mouth. </p><p>He doesn't have to wait long to unravel that particular mystery.</p><p>Gil throws his head back and comes with a shout, and Malcolm swallows down every last drop like it's the sweetest nectar and he's been dying of thirst. Malcolm laps at his cock until Gil hisses with oversensitivity, and then crawls up his body to settle next to him, planting gentle kisses along his shoulder and up his neck. </p><p>Malcolm ignores his own arousal for the time being, happy to lay beside Gil and watch him slowly come down from his orgasm, heaving chest gradually evening out as he catches his breath. It's only a moment before Gil opens his eyes and immediately tugs Malcolm in for a heated kiss, his tongue eagerly pushing its way into Malcolm's mouth.</p><p>The way Gil's fingers roam over his body ratchets up Malcolm's arousal, but when Gil's hands land on his hips and he yanks Malcolm on top of him so that Malcolm is straddling his waist, legs open wide, a sense of exhilaration shoots through Malcolm's body at the sensation of being manhandled so easily by the man beneath him.</p><p>Gil's eyes light up as he notices Malcolm's reaction, an amused smile tugging at his lips. Instead of commenting on the obvious, though, he merely asks, "Lube?"</p><p>Malcolm reaches over to the nightstand where he'd placed a few packets of lube, hopeful that he and Gil would be falling into bed together at some point after their encounter that morning. Gil rips the foil open and squeezes out a liberal amount onto his fingers before tossing it back on the nightstand. His clean hand finds the back of Malcolm's neck, pulling him in for a filthy kiss while his slicked fingers make their way unerringly between Malcolm's legs and begin to press into his eager body.</p><p>Gil moves with purpose, sliding one finger, then two, then three in quick succession into Malcolm's hole, stretching him perfectly with the slightest intimation of pain to compliment the pleasure as he leaves him no time to adjust to the thick fingers that are spearing into him.</p><p>Malcolm can only maintain the kiss for so long, dropping his head to Gil's shoulder as the sensation of Gil's fingers rubbing against his inner walls takes him over, rocking on Gil's hand as he picks up speed. The little, mewling noises that fall from his lips as Gil's long fingers hit his prostate, over and over again, only make Gil pump harder. </p><p>Gil's hand remains a steadying presence on his neck, anchoring him to the moment while his body is threatening to float away.  </p><p>"Nnngh, Gil," Malcolm cries as he gets closer and closer to his release. "Please."</p><p>He doesn't even know what he's begging for, but it doesn't matter because Gil, of course, does.</p><p>"You're being such a good boy for me, Bright," Gil says, the low tone of his voice and the words themselves jolting through Malcolm's body. "You're doing so well, sweetheart. You're so tight around my fingers."</p><p>Malcolm clenches down at the praise and his pleasure shoots up a notch. He's so damn close. </p><p>"Can you come from this, sweetheart? Just from riding my fingers?" Gil asks as he nudges his chin along the side of Malcolm's face. "Can you show me just how good it feels to have my fingers in your ass, touching you right here?" Gil taps at the sweet spot inside of him and Malcolm's not sure if it's that or the words that push him over, but soon he's striping Gil's chest with ropes of come. "Mmmm. Such a good boy."</p><p>Gil's fingers slow but don't pull out until the last of the come has dribbled from the tip of his cock, then he wraps both arms around Malcolm's back, holding him tight and pressing them together chest to chest, smearing the mess of Malcolm's release between them. They stay like that until they start to stick together uncomfortably where they're joined, and then Gil rolls Malcolm off of him and goes to grab a damp rag to wipe them both down. He's gentle as he swipes the cloth over Malcolm, tender strokes that somehow convey the love the man is feeling. Once they're passably clean, Gil crawls back in beside Malcolm, tossing an arm over his chest and pulling him close.</p><p>"So what now?" Gil asks, laying lazy kisses to Malcolm's shoulder.</p><p>Much to Malcolm's amusement — after Gil had insisted that his last trip didn't count because he stayed in his room the whole time — they end up spending the rest of the day inside their suite. Following a brief siesta and a room service order for dinner, they manage two more rounds of mind-blowing sex and hours of curling up together, taking pleasure from one another's company and conversation.</p><p>When it comes time to go to bed, there's not even a discussion. Gil draws up behind Malcolm and pulls him flush against his body, chest to back, and though Malcolm will never admit it out loud, he's never felt more secure in his life. Gil has been his protector since that fateful day more than twenty years ago, but now, somehow, Malcolm finally feels safe. It's as if, wrapped up in Gil's strong arms, he can truly let go of the fear that's been clawing at his mind all these years.</p><p>"Goodnight, city boy," Gil whispers against the nape of his neck.</p><p>"Goodnight, Gil," Malcolm smiles, even though he knows Gil can't see him. "I love you."</p><p>He freezes as the words tumble from his lips, panic that it's too much, too soon, wrapping around his chest in the space between breaths. Gil either doesn't notice or chooses not to comment on the way his body tenses, merely pulling him closer and pressing a lingering kiss on his neck.</p><p>"I love you, too, sweetheart," Gil says simply.</p><p>And that, apparently, is that.</p><p>Malcolm can't help the smile that breaks over his face at the statement, can't stop the kaleidoscope of butterflies that begin to flutter in his stomach, wouldn't change the warm wash of contentment that settles over him for anything in the world.</p><p>"Go to sleep, kid," Gil whispers, but Malcolm can hear the smile in his words. "I fully intend on wearing you out tomorrow."</p><p>Malcolm huffs out a laugh but settles back against Gil, letting sleep claim him without the usual struggle he puts up to fend it off. Gil's presence is infinitely better than his sleep restraints — which are still tucked away, unneeded and unwanted, in his suitcase — calming his mind and chasing away the nightmares before they can take hold.</p><p>As he wakes up in the morning, refreshed and rejuvenated after almost seven hours of uninterrupted sleep, he decides that he could get used to this. The fact that Gil appears to have slept through the night as well just proves that they would do well to make this sleeping arrangement a permanent thing.</p><p>They spend the next couple of days taking full advantage of their remaining vacation time. They alternate time lounging on the beach with activities like kayaking, a pitiful attempt at beach volleyball, and going for that couple's massage they'd discussed earlier. A good deal of time is also spent in their suite, discovering one another's bodies and the pleasure they can give and receive.</p><p>On their final night, Gil suggests trying out that surf and turf dinner on the beach that the waiter had recommended on their first night out, and Malcolm is more than happy to agree, thrilled to see the way Gil's health seems to be rapidly improving with every day of rest, hearty meals, and <em>vigorous</em> physical activities.</p><p>They both don their dress clothes for the occasion and walk hand-in-hand once again as they make their way to the steakhouse where they'll be shown to their table on the beach. Malcolm is lost in the giddiness of being able to so openly show that he's Gil's, that he's unaware of his surroundings until Gil's hand tightens around his own and he looks up to find Eric and his friends walking towards them.</p><p>Eric's eyes drop to Malcolm and Gil's joined hands immediately and then back up to Malcolm's eyes, smiling softly at him as they pass by one another on the path, acknowledging each other with a nod and nothing more.</p><p>When Malcolm looks back to Gil, he's met with a barely concealed grimace that sits awkwardly on his handsome face. Malcolm tugs him down for a quick kiss and says, "You know, in a way, he's sort of the reason you and I got together. I think if it hadn't been for that night, this vacation would have gone very differently."</p><p>Gil grunts his acknowledgment but says, "Maybe. But don't expect me to send him a fruit basket."</p><p>"Gil Arroyo, are you jealous?" Malcolm laughs, knowing the man will deny it to the ends of the earth and back, and finding him all the more adorable for it.</p><p>Gil doesn't even bother with a response, but he does drop Malcolm's hand in order to toss his arm around his shoulders for the rest of the walk, a touch of possessiveness in the gesture that pleases Malcolm far more than it should.</p><p>It's the same waiter as before, Juan, that meets them at the front of the restaurant, a grin cracking his face as he sees them standing with their arms around each other.</p><p>"I knew you looked like a couple," Juan says as he ushers them along the walkway alongside the steakhouse and then out towards the ocean where a picturesque scene awaits. "I am never wrong about these things."</p><p>There's a temporary planked floor laid out on a small stretch of beach, perhaps a dozen feet from the gentle tide that's rolling in, with beautiful metal torches pounded into the sand at each of the four corners. In the center of the platform is a table set for two, with votive candles in the center, the crisp white tablecloth draping down to graze the wooden flooring.  </p><p>It's far and away the most romantic date Malcolm has ever been on.</p><p>Gil pulls out the white wicker chair for Malcolm and soon they're seated, angled towards one another while they both face out towards the ocean, while Juan pours them each a glass of champagne from the stainless steel wine chiller at the side of the table, chatting amicably the whole time. At Juan's recommendation, they even place an order for the platter, rather than individual meals, when he insists it will be the best meal they've ever had.</p><p>He leaves them shortly thereafter to put in their order, and they relax into their chairs to take in the exquisite view in front of them. The sky stretches on endlessly and is bleeding through every imaginable shade of blue as the sun sets behind them, the ocean mirroring the shift from day to night as they watch.</p><p>"It's stunning," Gil says, echoing Malcolm's thoughts.</p><p>"It is," Malcolm agrees, "Thank you for suggesting this vacation. It turned out better than I ever could have dreamed."</p><p>It's hard to believe that it's only been a matter of days since everything changed between them. Their relationship has already become an integral part of Malcolm's life, and he's not honestly sure how he was living without it before.</p><p>"I'm glad you agreed to come. I thought maybe vacationing with an old man wouldn't hold much appeal."</p><p>"You're hardly an old man," Malcolm rolls his eyes and reaches out to intertwine his fingers with Gil's across the small gap between them. "And honestly, you could have asked me to spend a week with you in a shack in backwoods Louisiana and I would have jumped at the opportunity."</p><p>Gil squeezes his hand at that, a small smile softening his features as he pulls Malcolm's hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to his knuckles. "Well I'm certainly glad we ended up here instead."</p><p>Malcolm can't think of a single place he'd rather be.</p><p>Night falls fast and by the time Juan returns with their meal, the sky is verging on an glossy blackness that leaves only the first few yards of the ocean visible by the light of the resort behind them. It feels intimate in a way that seems impossible in a resort so large, like they're the only people left in the world.</p><p>Eventially, though, Juan walks sure-footed through the sand carrying a tray full of food that Malcolm thinks can't possibly be all for them, and is understandably shocked to find out otherwise. The platter contains a whole baked lobster, garlic prawns, salt and pepper baby squid, jumbo shrimp smothered in a garlic butter sauce, dry aged rump steak, and T-bone steak, not to mention the sides of roasted vegetables and potato wedges. </p><p>"Trust me," Juan says with an amused grin at Malcolm's incredulous stare, "once you start eating, you won't want to stop. Can I get you anything else?"</p><p>"Pants with an elastic waistband?" Gil jokes, eyeing the food appreciatively.</p><p>Juan laughs and leaves them to their feast with a promise that he'll be back to check in on them shortly.</p><p>"Well," Gil says as he eyes the delectable dishes before him. "Good thing I worked up an appetite this afternoon." He looks over to Malcolm with a glimmer in his eyes that Malcolm can't entirely attribute to the torches that are burning around them.</p><p>While Malcolm would love to call the man out for the risque insinuation, Malcolm is actually rather hungry himself, likely because of those hinted at afternoon activities. So instead he just gestures to Gil to dig in and soon they both have a little bit of everything on the plates in front of them.</p><p>Malcolm actually samples a few bites of each dish, which is probably more than he's eaten on their entire trip. Gil, on the other hand, eats like a king, enjoying every new bite with a groan of appreciation that Malcolm is ashamed to admit goes straight to his cock.</p><p>They actually make it through more of the food than Malcolm had expected, though there's still a fair amount left by the time they can't tuck away any more.</p><p>"Well?" Juan grins, walking up with hands spread wide.</p><p>"Juan, you were right," Gil drops a hand to his stomach, lightly patting as a sign of just how stuffed he is. "About everything." He adds, glancing over to Malcolm with a smile.</p><p>"Ah, it is a gift!" Juan says, placing a hand over his heart. "I am pleased you enjoyed the evening." </p><p>They chat with Juan for a few minutes before they finally push to their feet, shaking hands with the man and offering a generous tip before saying their goodbyes. With nowhere to be, they take their time wandering through the resort, arms linked as Malcolm leans into Gil, wanting to feel as close as he can to the man on their final night on vacation. </p><p>Though it's not terribly late, they decide to head back to the room, knowing they still need to pack their bags. The car is scheduled to pick them up at 7:00 — an early morning end to their tropical getaway — and they'll need time to check out prior to that. Even still, when they get back to their room, they put off the necessary task to curl up together on the oversized deck lounger. After such a heavy meal, neither man is exactly in the mood for anything sexy, but their need to be in close proximity to one another has only grown over the last few days and they're not quite ready to let that go.</p><p>They stay outside, talking about everything and nothing, until Malcolm begins to doze off against Gil's chest.</p><p>"Come on, city boy," Gil whispers against Malcolm's hair. "Let's go to bed."</p><p>It's funny, Malcolm thinks to himself just before he falls asleep, how wonderfully they fit, pressed together in the king size bed that seems comically large when they're only taking up a tiny portion. He smiles to himself as he drifts off, thinking about how they made use of every inch of that space over the last few days, wondering if maybe he needs to upgrade his own mattress when they get home.</p><p>Morning comes faster than Malcolm would have liked, and soon they're checked out and watching the resort disappear behind them as the car pulls away to take them to the airport.</p><p>"We can always come back," Gil says, reaching across the seat to lay his hand on the back of Malcolm's neck, obviously noticing the wistful look on Malcolm's face as the resort fades from sight.</p><p>It's only a four hour flight between New York and Cancun, and Malcolm realizes that Gil is right. They can absolutely come back for an extended weekend every now and again. Neither of them had ever been much for vacations in the past, but he has a feeling that's about to change, and he's filled with a low buzz of excitement at the prospect of doing this again.</p><p>"I'd like that," Malcolm says simply, running his thumb along Gil's hand, still thrilled that he's allowed to do such a thing.</p><p>"Me too, kid."</p><p>The flight home is a simple affair and goes by quickly, both men constantly reaching for the other as they talk in hushed tones the entire flight, leaning towards each other reflexively. It's only as they exit the airport, back in the hustle of New York, that they finally fall silent and reluctantly release their hold on one another. As they make their way to the line of taxis outside, the few feet of distance between them feeling like miles, Malcolm realizes he's not ready to say goodbye just yet. </p><p>"Would you maybe want to come home with me?" Malcolm blurts out, nervous all of a sudden, even though Gil's given him no reason to think anything has changed. "I mean, I know you probably have things to do at home before you go back to work tomorrow, and we just spent every hour of the last few days together so I totally underst—"</p><p>Malcolm's ramblings are cut off as Gil leans in and presses their lips together, a reassurance and a promise that Malcolm sinks into, the sudden anxiety melting away as Gil's lips move over his.</p><p>"I'd love to, kid," Gil says, pulling the cab door open for Malcolm and then sliding into the backseat after him, taking Malcolm's hand in his own the second that they're settled.</p><p>He knows that it's going to take some time to navigate this new relationship now that they're back in the real world — learning how to keep work and home lives separate, figuring out how to tell their friends and families, discovering how to date when they've already spent days in bed together — but for the first time in a very, very long time, Malcolm feels something aside from an indistinct but all-consuming dread when he thinks about the future. </p><p>He told Gil once that he was 'familiar with the concept' of being happy. After everything that's happened, after traveling the long and painful road it took to get them where they are, he finally knows what it's like to actually feel it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>!goblin</p>
<p>😉</p></blockquote></div></div>
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